


Fragile Bird

by goodwineandcheese



Category: Monster
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Damaged Tenma, Dehumanization, Extremely Gentle Grimmer, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Slow Burn, inhumane treatment, rescue romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-03-01 03:56:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 91,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodwineandcheese/pseuds/goodwineandcheese
Summary: Man was once gifted with the feather of an angel. It is said that this feather gives its wielder great fortune and prosperity; unfortunately, man is greedy. In the current era, an angel’s feathers have become a highly sought-after commodity. Now that humans have discovered an effective means to extract them by force, angels have made themselves scarce. But, now and then, an angel is discovered by those who seek his power. Heaven help those who are captured in the hunt.





	1. Grimmer of the Glade

**Author's Note:**

> Geez okay, so this started from the completely superficial concept of "what if Tenma but wings" and? This is where we are now. This fic is set in some weird fantasy-esque AU world where magic happens and angels just kinda be chillin. They're not biblical angels in any sense, it's just people with wings. And some other weird physiology stuff because if I'm making a unique race I might as well have some fun with it.
> 
> There will be a _lot_ of discussion of torture and its physical/psychological effects. Tenma’s been through some extremely bad times and this fic is really pointedly about his recovery. It’s still my usual brand of hurt/comfort so there’ll be good healing to go with it, but the hurt part will be more discussed than usual. :( Baby doesn't deserve this

There was no one quite so talented as Grimmer, or at least none as well known for his talents. Time had given him a name, and a fair share of infamy - the uncatchable vagabond and general nuisance who lived deep within the Glade was something of a living legend. And one who held up to the whispers - Grimmer was a man who simply would not be caught.

Not unless he chose to be. 

“The lord will be pleased to have you removed at last, meddler.” 

There was a crow of pride from the attending sentries, one shoving Grimmer none too gently, causing him to stumble into one of the guards at the head of their boxed formation. He sighed, casting a tired glance over his shoulder at the men that seemed altogether too pleased with themselves. Doubtless they would splurge tonight, reveling in what must be seen as some ceremonious victory. To think that he was worth so much to these men!

Grimmer’s gaze lingered on one of the three at the rear, the man with the loudest laugh. This was all his doing, in the end. He wore a very good mask - of course, assuming he hadn’t been run afoul. There was a chance that indeed he had been duped. But that conversation…

* * *

The Glade was a place that few ventured - considered a wild land, the neighbouring Heine was entirely pleased to pretend that the dark wood didn’t exist at all. So the capture of a trespasser - and a member of the Noble Guard, no less - had come as a surprise to the foundlings of the Glade.

Sir Becker sought no conflict - rather, he desired an audience with the leader of the foundlings. It wasn’t often in Grimmer’s interest to indulge the noble guard, but a meeting in the Glade, in the late hours of the eve, spoke of curious purpose.

Oh, and curious it was!

_”I’ve come to ask a favour. You just might be the only one who can do it.”_

Sir Becker seemed uneasy, surrounded by so many that Heine had cast out. As he very well should! Grimmer made no effort to ease that fright, taking his own small enjoyment in the way the man stood nearly quaking in his boots. 

“Well, go on, then. What could you _possibly_ need from someone so heinous as myself?”

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Dread seemed to seep into the man’s voice.

“There is an Angel in the lord’s possession. I’d like for you to rescue him.”

There was a certain chill that filled the Glade. It had been nearly a decade since the last Angel was spotted in and around Heine. They were so rare these days; ever since man discovered how to fleece an angel of its feathers, they had made themselves a scarcity. Every month, the lord would issue a hunt, and every month, returned empty handed. For one to have been caught now…

Grimmer looked over the soldier with a weary, uncertain eye.

“I thought the noble guard led the lord's hunt. Why the sudden change of heart?”

Becker took a moment, gaze falling to his feet. There was something painful in his expression, something almost haunted. And certainly, there was shame. 

“I wanted to help our country prosper. I didn’t know it would be like this. He suffers terribly, and I can’t simply turn the other cheek any more. But I can’t save him alone. So I thought that someone like yourself…if you hid him in the Glade...”

Cloudy blue eyes rose slowly to meet Grimmer’s. They were truly, genuinely sorrowful.

“Please.”

* * *

Perhaps he’d gone too soft. A noble guard of Heine wishing for the freedom of an angel...it was a baffling thought. His eyes had seemed true, but there were crafty liars even among those daftest of men.

The blessings of an angel’s feathers had been passed down in folk tales and legends for quite some time - even Grimmer had heard the story, before his banishment. It seemed as though, in the past, angels were a common sight - beings that would appear to bless those they so chose with good fortune. It wasn’t until the name of Heinemann took power that the practice of harvesting feathers began.

Gone were the days of an angel bestowing his or her blessings freely; the Heinemann family had discovered a means of subduing the elusive angels, and collecting their feathers by force. They couldn't simply be plucked; no human could hope to take those lovely feathers by any mundane means. It took a certain dark craft to force the angel to relinquish his feathers. Grimmer knew little of the process, but he was certain at least in one thing; there was no kind fate for a captured angel. Harvesting their feathers was tantamount to torture. 

It was then, musing on those morbid thoughts, that Grimmer saw him.

The angel was imprisoned with the grace given to a common criminal, easily visible to the passing party of soldiers and their catch. He was...beautiful, but heartbreakingly so; oily dark hair that looked like it should be soft and fluffy hung about his face in haphazard clumps. The ragged shirt he wore was stained red, and marks littered his body. Unearthly gold eyes lifted to watch Grimmer as he passed. Though the angel’s expression remained neutral and unchanged, there was something terribly _exhausted_ in those eyes.

Grimmer felt a pit forming in his stomach. To his knowledge, the despicable harvesting of feathers was rarely a _violent_ process. There was absolutely no need for the angel to be in such wretched condition. He kept his face forward, resisting the urge to glance back toward Becker. Right now, he couldn’t afford to give away their plan.

“Quit it with the gawking. On with ya.”

Grimmer was pushed again, stumbling forward. His feet felt leaden as he walked, keeping his eyes ahead, memorizing the halls. He was roughly shoved along and jailed, Becker giving him a quick, almost cheery wave as he and the others left. Grimmer stepped back, lowering himself down against the far wall. What humour he’d had earlier had all but dissipated now; seeing the angel like that, in such a state, had been more painful than he anticipated. He hadn’t ever seen it, not like this. Not so close. He only hoped his eyes had looked kinder when the angel saw him.

Grimmer let his head fall backward against the stone, taking a deep breath and letting it out. For now, there wasn’t much he could do but wait. Becker would be around when the evening hour came. As long as he followed the plan to the letter, everything would be fine.

Failure simply wasn’t an option.

* * *

The escape was, itself, smoothly executed. It was nothing dramatic or original - Heckel’s group offered a distraction to occupy the guards on active duty - half drunk from their celebrating - while Grimmer picked himself out with the key he had conveniently been left with when Becker came by that evening. From there, it was a matter of collecting the imprisoned angel. Grimmer recalled easily enough where he was being held; lord Heinemann liked to think his prison a maze, but compared to the Glade, it was terribly easy to find his way.

The angel was unconscious when he found him - and, surprisingly, in far better shape, or so it seemed. Grimmer didn’t allow himself much time to ponder on the state of the poor man - there would be time for that once they were free. 

He was terribly light, and so Grimmer had no trouble lifting him - though he was careful of the wings; he really had no desire to rescue the fellow only to damage him in such a way. With the unconscious angel in his arms, the man made his way back to rendez-vous with Heckel and make an escape, thereby maintaining his record - the uncatchable Mr. Grimmer, indeed. 

Taking the angel to the Glade wasn’t terribly difficult at night. The present state of prosperity within Heine made security lax, and Grimmer had mastered the art of discreet comings and goings across the border long before then. He wasn’t sure what luck it was that the angel didn’t stir even once, but it made for rather swift and painless travel. He and Heckel took two different paths, on the off chance that they were followed. Not that there was even a slim chance, not this far into the woods.

Grimmer was careful when he lay the angel down; the man showed no immediate signs of pain, and he would rather keep it that way. Lighting one of the lamps, he crouched by the man’s side, a deep frown settling on his face as he examined his charge. The angel sported no visible injuries, his skin perfect and untarnished despite what he had seen only hours ago. Even taking a peek beneath the red stains of his tattered clothing there was no sign that he had ever been made to bleed. Grimmer felt a twist of his gut, swallowing the implications somberly. There was no telling how long the angel had been held there. The last hunt had been nearly three weeks ago, but this angel could easily have been captured long before then.

All the same, something wasn’t quite right. The terrible condition he had seen the angel in...that sort of brutality wasn’t necessary. Grimmer...had a feeling that he knew what they were trying to do. Harvesting an angel’s feathers was a terrible practice, but this...this was different. This was worse. If his hunch was correct...

With a careful hand, Grimmer turned the angel onto his side. His light frame shifted easily beneath even a gentle touch. Grimmer felt a twinge of guilt; this was something that was probably very personal, but at the very least he wanted to assess the damage. He placed his hand over the root of the angel’s wing, where it protruded from his shoulder. He moved his fingers along the soft surface with a delicate brush, gently tracing along the tendon, shifting feathers aside. Sure enough, he could feel slight roughness against his fingers, where the skin had taken on a harder texture. Between that and the slight discoloration starting to spread outward...there was no mistaking it. Grimmer didn’t bother to check the other wing; this phenomenon was almost always parallelled, and he didn’t want to invade the angel’s privacy any more than necessary. 

The progression seemed to be minimal so far, and he was glad of that, but he did have to wonder if the angel would be able to fly. It would probably take a bit of time to heal, before he was strong enough. What worried Grimmer more was the lack of any response to his wing being handled. Even under some sort of influence, the angel should have stirred, but he remained entirely immobile throughout. Grimmer took a more careful look at his wounded charge. If he missed something...

That was when he noticed...well, he didn’t quite know what 'it' was.

It seemed, on his second look, that there was a faint discoloration at the base of his neck, where the skin was a dark shade of purple. Tracing it with a finger, Grimmer could feel an unusual protrusion, like something was under the skin. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. 

“You’re just full of surprises…” 

Despite himself, Grimmer kept his voice low. There was no one to be disturbed, unless the angel spontaneously woke, but that certainly didn’t happen. With a sigh, Grimmer sat back. He didn’t know what that thing was, but he had a feeling it had something to do with the angel’s seemingly comatose state. Some sort of darkness...a kind of poison...he didn’t know _what_ it could be, but it certainly wasn’t good.

But removing it…

Grimmer squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t his area of expertise, but unfortunately, he didn’t have much in the way of a helping hand, not so long as their doctor was away. He rubbed his temples, eyes opening again. 

“I’d rather not see you bleed any more, but that doesn’t seem to be an option.” he muttered, standing and dusting off his knees. He was going to need to pick up a few things for this. Grimmer glanced down at the angel, offering a sympathetic, sad sort of smile.

“I hope you’ll forgive me for this. But I imagine it’ll do you a lot of good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel it's worth noting that Eva is not a character who exists in this AU...I don't want to associate her with the bad times that Tenma had to deal with because of her father :/ Unless I retcon it and have her be secretly tryna help or something. We'll see.


	2. Tenma

The angel healed rather quickly, as Grimmer had thought. 

The incision was fairly minor, just enough that he could tweeze the foreign body from underneath the angel’s skin, but the wound had knit itself together in under an hour. He didn’t know if that was a trait among all angels. He could only assume so.

Grimmer stared at the strange black globule he had removed. It wasn’t anything he’d seen before - pitch black, a true darkness that was even deeper than the night. It was formless and not quite solid, though its shape shifted more in the way that water might - lazily, only moving when disturbed. Grimmer didn’t dare touch it with his bare skin - if it was in some way toxic to an angel, he didn’t want to find out what it might do to a human.

He was convinced, though, that it was some sort of dark enchantment; when he had removed it, the angel had let out a small shudder that sounded relieved. He seemed to be returning to a normal state of rest - with periods of hurried breathing, but all considered, that was probably normal. The strange black bead probably had some sort of paralytic or sedative effect on the angel. The skin there had reverted to normal, no longer the sickly purplish colour from before. 

Still, Grimmer made no attempt to destroy it - he wouldn’t have the first idea how. This sort of thing was beyond his knowledge, and he had no way of knowing what would happen if he tried. For the time being, he simply sealed it in an empty jar; keeping it in the open air didn’t feel like a very wise or healthy thing to do.

Heckel sat watching him, eyeing the curious little black thing as it was put out of sight with a mixture of interest and wary disgust, though he said nothing. Grimmer cast a glance his way, smiling thinly.

“If it’s poisonous to an angel, someone like you would be better to leave it alone, I think.”

The weasely little man stiffened, making a disgruntled noise as he looked away sheepishly.

“Well, you don’t know….I mean, s’probly...could be worth a lot, to the right guy. Never know..”

Grimmer didn't miss a beat, quirking a brow.

“Selling something like this to oily types is asking for trouble, don’t you think? And to be perfectly honest, I don’t fancy the idea of putting it in _anyone’s_ hands. Your pitch needs a bit of work.”

Heckel grunted some sort of affirmative noise, his gaze turning over to the angel. His face lightened just a little.

“So that’s the guy, huh.”

His voice was curious, but tinged with something more sympathetic. Heckel was certainly among the most crooked of their lot, but even still he had a caring heart. He sighed and glanced back toward Grimmer.

“I’ll see what I can find out on the inside when I do the usual run. There anythin’ you want me to pick up? How’s the care and keeping of these guys work anyhow?”

Grimmer narrowed his eyes, glancing back down at the fitfully sleeping angel. 

“You need to keep a low profile right now. Milos and Antonin can take care of looting for a while. Though I _would_ like you to find out what you can about our guest here. I would imagine the market is buzzing, if he’s been imprisoned for over three weeks. We need to find out who knows about him. Who might come looking.”

Heckel nodded, gaze flicking between Grimmer and the angel. 

“He gonna be okay?”

That…

That was a bit of a heavy question.

Grimmer...wanted him to be. And, certainly he would do what he could for the man. But there was no telling what came now. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“I hope so.”

* * *

Grimmer didn’t sleep at all, but truthfully….that was to be expected. He wasn’t sure that night would have been restful, even if he did. His mind kept wandering to the angel, and paranoid whispers that someone might come for him in the dead of night kept him wide awake. 

The angel, though, seemed to be getting quite a bit of rest.

Grimmer had covered him with a blanket, the least he could do without disturbing the fellow. In the day that followed, he remained asleep long into the waking hours - so late that Heckel and the boys had done their rounds, delivering their spoils to the foundlings of the Glade. And of course, Heckel had his information to deliver.

From what the crook had told him, the situation was more unpleasant than Grimmer first thought. 

The angel’s feathers, of course, were being sold for a pretty penny, but more than that it seemed as though Lord Heinemann had discovered yet another resource to strip from him. At some point, it was learned that the angel’s blood had some form of healing property, making it near as valuable as his feathers. How such a conclusion was reached...it was becoming less and less likely that the poor man had been imprisoned for only three weeks. He didn’t want to think about what all had happened there.

It was long after noon when the angel finally woke, those beautiful golden eyes opening. To see them brought Grimmer an even deeper sadness than before. He had such gentle eyes, filled with a quiet kind of fear. The man was clearly confused by his predicament, rising slowly to a sitting position, looking around himself. He glanced down, noting his fresher state of dress. Grimmer had redressed the man in one of his own shirts; he certainly wasn’t going to leave him in those bloodied rags. The angel paid it little mind; he seemed more interested in the fact he was free of any chains, and cautious of the blanket that had been lain over him.

Grimmer stayed where he was - on the far side of the room, leaning against the wall. There was a perfectly comfortable armchair he could seat himself in, but he felt that would send an unkind message. So for now, standing against the wall would do. As he watched and waited, the angel retreated in on himself. He sat as still as possible, simply blinking now and then. It seemed almost as though he was trying to shut out his surroundings, to the point he hadn’t even noticed the man standing off to the side. Grimmer took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Good morning to you.”

He spoke softly, slowly. Perhaps the angel would respond better if he coaxed, offering a gentler dialogue. And, it certainly...had an effect, though not the sort he was hoping for; the angel bristled, arms crossing over his chest as he curled inward defensively, eyes shooting toward the sound. Undoubtedly he hadn’t expected an unfamiliar voice. When his eyes rested on Grimmer, there was a brief sense of...recognition, though it quickly faded into that same, morose look from before. Still not a word out of him. Grimmer clasped his hands in front of him, sliding down so he was sat against the wall now - lower, closer to the angel’s height.

“It’s all right if you’re afraid. I think that’s a pretty normal response. I’d probably be scared of me, if I were you.”

The angel still didn’t say a word, his golden gaze falling. If anything he looked more unsettled than before. His wings twitched a little beneath his shirt, as though trying to pull free of the material before they settled once more. It was very clear that, for now, Grimmer would be having a very one-sided conversation. Engaging his guest would probably take some time. He really didn’t know how this would work...or what he was doing, for that matter.

“You’re looking a lot better now, than yesterday. That thing that was in your neck...that was hurting you, wasn’t it?”

The angel didn’t seem to respond at first, narrowing his eyes slightly as he processed what Grimmer was saying. Abruptly, a look of shock crossed his face. He brought his hand to the back of his neck, frantically searching for something there, only to completely freeze, those gold hues looking to Grimmer with...a different sort of light. Uncertain, wary, but also….curious. He asked a question with that look, and Grimmer nodded slowly in answer.

“I took it out. I’m not sure what it was, but when I removed it, you seemed a lot better than before.” He paused, trying again. “Was it hurting you?”

There was a moment’s hesitation. Then, a nod. A nod was progress. It was acknowledgement. Grimmer smiled a thin smile, leaning back with a sigh. It wasn’t much of a victory, but it was a successful moment of communication. That thing...they probably used it to keep the angel docile and manageable. If it put the man into a deep sleep, there was no need to keep an eye on him, should he try to escape. It also nullified any attempts at a struggle. So then, to wake from some sort of induced slumber in an unfamiliar place, with an unfamiliar person...

His wariness of Grimmer was completely understandable. After all, it would be easy for this ‘rescue’ to be a mere pretext into a situation no better than the last; instead of the court of Heine using him, it would be this strange man who claimed to be his savior. Grimmer took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to dispel some of those heavy thoughts, to little avail.

“An angel’s feathers sell for quite a bit, with the scarcity of your kind these days. There are a lot of people who hunt angels down to harvest their feathers. You think that’s what this is, right? That I’m going to use you like Lord Heinemann did.”

Grimmer felt his stomach coil just uttering the words. The angel tensed again, but didn’t speak, still just staring at him with those incredible eyes. Grimmer shook his head slowly.

“I suppose I only have my word to give, which...doesn’t mean much of anything, but I’m not interested in any of that. In fact, it’s the opposite. I’m against the abhorrent treatment of angels. I heard about you, and we worked out a way to rescue you. There’s really nothing more to it.” He paused, trying to meet the angel’s eyes with a kinder look. “You’re no prisoner here. I'm setting you free.” 

Grimmer did his best to keep a level gaze. He wasn’t sure if the angel believed him, but he did seem to relax a little from his earlier tension. The man was at least willing to listen to Grimmer, and was processing what he was saying fairly well. Those were good things. He was starting to engage the human. Grimmer tried something a little more direct.

“Would you be willing to tell me what your name is? I think it would be more polite for me to use your name than simply calling you ‘angel’ or something like it. I’ll give you mine first. You can call me Grimmer.”

The angel opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking away almost sheepishly. Ah, that was close. Not quite at that point, then...but he had thought about it, at least. 

...He still did say something, though not with words, and not quite willingly. Rather, the gnawing gurgle of the angel’s stomach spoke volumes. The poor man tensed yet again, a horrified look crossing his face as though somehow that sound was some terrible thing. Grimmer stood slowly, stepping around the corner into the “kitchen” - really not a very large space, but it served for the little home’s single resident. He came back around with two apples - one for himself and one for the angel. He held it out slowly, making sure that the man could follow the movement of his hand, so there was nothing sudden or unexpected.

“I really don’t have very much to offer right now I’m afraid. The bread's gone hard so I wouldn't recommend it. There are tomatoes, and some carrots, though they’re a bit small and sad looking. I don’t particularly know what you like, and I know it’s not very much, but it’s the best I can offer at the moment. At least until a little later.”

He stood holding out the apple for several seconds before the angel finally took it. Grimmer backed away again, lowering himself against the wall with his apple in hand. He took a bite out of it, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. There was a good chance that his current guest wouldn’t be very willing to talk to him at all for a few days, but he had to show that he wanted to try. It was important that the angel understood this wasn’t a hostile place, that he wouldn’t be hurt here. 

He still hadn’t forgotten it, what the angel’s eyes had looked like that first time he saw the man. So terribly tired, even vacant. Weeks of being used and hurt...turned into little more than a resource to be mined from...humans were already a bit daunting to angels, but for one who had been suffering this way...earning his trust would be a difficult thing. But, Grimmer would try. 

The sound of quiet shudders caught Grimmer’s attention, and he opened his eyes again, looking over with concern. Nothing seemed amiss, not at first. The angel...had taken a few bites from the apple, and was now simply holding it, staring at it, and...weeping, gently. He was trying to control it, trying not to cry in front of Grimmer, but it seemed to be breaking through. Even taking another bite, the look on his face was somewhere between terribly painful and relieved at once.

Grimmer looked down at the apple in his hands, scowling deeply. It was possible that they...in that time...that the angel had been…

He recalled how light the man had felt in his arms, and the aching knot in his stomach grew larger. Even something as horrible as that…

Grimmer felt his chest squeeze with that painful feeling again and he closed his eyes. There was a stinging there, at the corners, though he kept his own emotions under control. Even out of sympathy, it wasn’t his place to sorrow, not right at this moment. Still, he offered what little that he could to the man, speaking slowly, softly.

“It’s all right...you don’t have to hold yourself back. There’s nothing shameful in shedding tears. I know that you've been through a lot.” 

Grimmer maintained his distance from the angel for now. He was hurting...and that was painful to watch...but he certainly was in no position to console the man. All he could give were his words. Encouragement was all he could offer, for what little it was worth.

Regardless, he did turn away; this was something personal to the angel, a pain he probably wasn’t ready to share. Grimmer offered a slight sense of privacy for now to let the man have his moment. He looked at the apple in his hand, juicy red and delicious. He really didn’t feel like eating now, but the idea of wasting it was even worse. He took a tentative bite, ignoring his own queasiness; the angel would probably feel a bit better if he was doing something, rather than very obviously observing him, even if his eyes were turned away.

For the first time, he couldn’t say that he enjoyed the crisp taste. 

The weeping quieted eventually, the angel taking his time with the apple. There were more where that one came from, though Grimmer was hesitant to just hand the bowl off to him; even if he was terribly hungry, it was best if he took his time and ate slowly. Grimmer took his own eaten-away core to the bin, moving slowly as he passed by the angel, grabbing another apple on the way by - just in case the fellow did want another. He felt those eyes on him, but didn’t look the angel’s way, not immediately. It was during that space of silence that he finally...

“....Tenma.”

The word was spoken so softly, but all the same Grimmer very nearly dropped the apple he’d just picked up when he heard the angel speak. 

He turned, his eyes wide. This time it was Grimmer’s turn to seem startled, the angel looking just a little more composed now, though his eyes were still a little wet.

“You asked for my name.” he continued, equally softly. “Tenma.”

Grimmer felt just a little bit of warmth at hearing the angel….at hearing _Tenma_ speak. It didn’t mean very much, not yet, but that he was willing to talk was more than Grimmer had really expected so soon. Tenma…

He had a kind sounding voice, befitting of an angel. Grimmer offered a tired little smile.

“I wish that the circumstances were better, I’d like to say it’s nice to meet you.”

He’d hoped the angel might smile a little, but his quip really didn’t have any effect at all. Too soon for that. He sighed at his flat-falling attempt at lightheartedness and gave a shrug, itching the bridge of his nose. “Can I get you a cup of water? I imagine you haven’t had much to drink of late.”

Tenma gave a slightly more confident nod that time, and Grimmer set about pouring him a cup, bringing it around as slowly as before. The angel seemed appreciative of his careful approach, a little more willing to take what was handed to him this time. He seemed more at ease, now that he was a little fed. Grimmer settled himself on the ground once again, looking up toward the ceiling.

“When was the last time you ate something good?”

The question slipped out softly, something Grimmer wasn’t entirely aware he’d said aloud until he heard it. The angel didn’t look up, simply taking a sip of his water.

“I don’t know.”

That was a sad thought. It really was no wonder...no wonder at all the man had cried so openly when given even just an apple. Even just that...he didn’t know this angel, but his plight was agonizing. He took a moment, holding out the second apple.

“Try to eat slowly. You’re probably really hungry, but you need to eat slow right now.”

Tenma nodded, that same, more confident nod like before.

“Thank you.”

“No, there’s no need. It’s the least I can do.”

Grimmer looked from the angel to the chair that, as of yet, had received no love. He gestured toward it slowly. The angel looked up, but shook his head. Grimmer plopped himself down instead and looked down, staring at his hands.

“This place would be safe for you...but I’d like you to know that you don’t have to stay here. You’re welcome to, but that’s a choice for you to make. I won’t stop you, if you leave. But I do think you should be careful about that. We’re not in Heine any more, but there are definitely those who would like to get their hands on you and your feathers, who would be bold enough to scour these woods. If you want to leave, it’s going to be very dangerous.” 

Blue hues flicked up and he glanced out toward the window, to the high sun in a cloudless sky. “If you do want to leave, I’d probably give it a few hours. Wait until the sun starts to set. Head west through the hills, it’s not an easy place to travel but that’s exactly what you want to avoid any hunters. You can take some things from here if you like...some food and water for the road.” 

Grimmer glanced back toward Tenma with a tired, weary smirk. “It probably sounds like I’m trying to get rid of you, but that’s not really it either. I just want to make it very clear to you that the Glade is not your cage. Stay or leave...from here forward, you’re welcome to do what you like.”

Tenma didn’t say anything, and the look on his face was guarded; it was hard to say what it was he was feeling or thinking, but that was probably by design. Grimmer stood again, slowly, and stretched. 

“Right now, there’s a small herd of children that needs my attention. Their uncle is probably being a bad influence. You’re welcome to do as you like, and I’ll be back before long. If you’re still here, that is. And if not…”

Grimmer shrugged, offering a kind smile to the angel. “Then safe travels to you.”

With only those words, he turned slowly, heading out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tenma ;_;
> 
> Grimmer is doing his best :( He got Tenma to speak at least? And Heckel is a sneaky rat man who secretly cares, no one is surprised


	3. Reprieve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some of Tenma's memories, referencing dehumanization and psychological abuse.

Tenma didn’t know what to think.

It was just as that man, Grimmer, said. Waking in an unfamiliar place with no context to the situation, there was little else he could assume than that he had been sold. Or, perhaps, taken as spoils in a raid. The latter had seemed more likely, when he saw the man - a face he recognized, dimly. That man had been taken as a prisoner himself the very night before. A clever thief stealing the possessions of Lord Heinemann from within...that seemed most likely.

But…

Not once did the man make any move to hurt him, or attempt to pluck his feathers. He didn’t even _look_ at his wings. The man had kept his distance, and had done nothing more than speak to him. In the time that he talked, he spent most of it staring at his own hands than anything else. What was more, he’d removed the sickly parasite that had been embedded under his skin. 

Tenma no longer felt its sluggish effects; the drain on his energy, the lowered awareness, the induced sleep. The fact that the man didn’t know what it was said a lot. If he truly didn’t know, then he was no hunter. The fact that he bothered to remove it when he clearly understood that it was hurting the angel...

He was ‘against the abhorrent treatment of angels’. That was something that he had said.

And he…

_”Are you hungry, dove? You know it doesn’t have to be like this. Just ask. We have more than enough to spare. You can eat all you like, if you only ask.”_

Immortality gave him no favours while imprisoned. Hunger became a monstrous enemy, one that they would use against him. Eating in front of him, coaxing…’if he would only ask’, was what they would say. But Tenma…

 _More than enough to spare._ He knew what they were doing. The language that they used was unassuming enough, but Tenma knew that accepting food stated to be in great excess was to knowingly accept food steeped in gluttonous sin, willfully indulging sin himself. And doing that…

It would only bring Lord Heinemann and his court one step closer to what they truly desired of him. Something that Tenma absolutely could not relinquish.

When he felt the hollowness of hunger, he couldn’t help but fear the worst. But Grimmer...what he offered was such a plain morsel. No feasts in excess, no pleasure foods of the rich, only a single apple...one for himself and one for Tenma. His offer of something to eat was no attempt to bring him to sin; it was genuine, something to sate his hunger. An act of real compassion.

How long had it been, since anyone offered even a single kindness to him? 

The angel couldn’t help but weep then. 

Even after that...Grimmer never once made attempts to take from him - no “payment” for his kind deed. His face was filled with regret and even pain, _sympathy_ for the angel in his care. He spoke only reassurances - that this place was no cage, that he had the choice to stay or to leave. That he was allowed to do as he willed. To be told that, after so long...

_”Caged birds should be a little more cooperative. The only one making this difficult is yourself.”_

He was being told he was free.

The door really was right there. Unguarded. Open. Pressing his hand to the wood, he could really just push it open, if he wanted to. Tenma felt his heart thudding in his chest and, after a moment, shoved against the heavy oak.

With a creak, the door was open, and he was met with glittering sunlight.

Tenma brought a hand up to shield his eyes, wincing from the sheer brightness. So long spent in the dark had warped his senses, but just now, stepping into the light...he remembered how much he missed this. Blinding bright, the golden glow was so warm against his skin. He could hear birds in the distance, felt the breeze, and stepping out into the grass…

Tenma lowered down to his knees, tracing the soft green blades with his fingertips. They were damp, a rich and healthy green, and he...could touch it. He could feel the breeze playing with his hair, kissing his cheek, as though to greet him since his long time away. Looking to the sky, Tenma raised a hand into the air. There was a gentle fluttering, and as he watched, a fat little chickadee landed on his finger, twittering happily. He lowered his hand slowly, the bird cocking its head, fluffing its feathers, chirping at him.

“Even now, you’ll still answer me…” he breathed, incredulous. He had really thought that the birds would be wary of him now. He was sure he still smelled like that place, but all the same, the delicate creature seemed only too happy to use him as its perch. Tenma felt himself smile - just a little, filled with warmth. Even now, nature welcomed him back.

The chickadee twittered at him once more, then took flight. Tenma raised his hand, carding it through his hair. It really did feel filthy, oily, an unpleasant reminder. He just...wanted to feel fresh and clean, even just that would help.

Tenma wrestled free of the shirt he had been given. He let out a sigh of relief as that gentle breeze reached his wings. He fanned them out, taking a moment just to enjoy the feeling. His wings hadn’t been free like this...not in a long time. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He could feel the dull ache - a shooting pain that originated from his shoulders. 

Grimmer...Grimmer had come at a good time. Tenma really didn’t know how much longer he could endure in that place. That heaviness in his wings was proof enough. Any longer, and surely...

He folded them tightly against his back and shuddered, gripping his arms. Thinking about it only made him feel sick.

With a deep breath, Tenma stood back to his feet again. He reached up, letting another little bird find its perch on his hand. He smiled, tilting his head.

“I don’t suppose you could show me to a river somewhere nearby.”

* * *

When Grimmer reached Heckel and the boys, it was not to find a circle of scheming little dastardly gremlins huddled about and whispering secret plans to one another. It was indeed a circle that he found, but one surprisingly tame and docile, with Heckel holding something and the boys all peering at it curiously with wide, wondrous eyes. The _something_ he held looked, from a distance, to be a journal.

The first to notice him was little Wim, who waved from his spot in the circle, causing everyone to look up. Grimmer waved back, plodding over with a curious little smile.

“And what is it you’re all doing there?”

“Heckel drew us a picture of what the angel looks like.” Wim answered dutifully. “It’s really bad.”

“Well _excuse_ you. Least I tried, it ain’t like I had to but you brats just kept beggin’ me. Show a little appreciation!”

Wim responded with a terribly smug little face. Ah, he was starting to pick up trouble from the rest of those boys. Though, in fairness, now that Grimmer was close enough to see, it was indeed a very bad sketch. The wings looked like clumped clouds, and he had a remarkably pointy chin attached to an unusually long oval face. The hair wasn’t entirely terrible, but attached to the simplistic stick-bodied fellow it was difficult for him to criticize the boys.

Though, he did appreciate the gesture. The children had been quite excited at the notion of an angel hiding among them, but Heckel and himself had been strict on the rule that the boys were not to pester him. He had a particular feeling that twenty-odd humans, even children, gawking at him - and especially his wings - wouldn’t do very much good for the man’s sense of comfort. Yes, it was exciting to have an angel among them. But, he wasn't some sort of fantastical art piece to be ogled. Until Grimmer was sure that the children could behave themselves and act respectfully - and he was certain that Tenma would respond well to other humans - they were not to see him.

Well, and that too was assuming the angel would be staying. He had a few hunches about that...but, he wouldn’t be surprised if Tenma was gone when he returned in the evening.

“Is he feeling any better? Heckel said he was still sleeping. Is he sick?”

Grimmer...wasn’t sure if ‘better’ was the right word. His face grew somber as he looked over the children.

“I don’t think he’s sick. But he’s in a lot of pain, that’s for sure. He was treated incredibly cruelly in that place. Right now, he isn’t ready to trust us. We have to let him heal.”

For all their wild excitement, the boys listened well, their own sympathetic sadness on their faces. Grimmer never felt it was a bad thing to be honest with them; they were young, the youngest among their family aged eight, but it was important for them to learn and understand at a young age. Far better to know how cruel people could be, and know what was right and wrong, than to live unaware and become a part of the ignorant problem. 

Though, now the tone was a bit morose...he could feel Heckel’s eyes on him, knew he was frantically trying to get some message across. Grimmer smiled, clearing his throat.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be all right. After all, we’re not going to let anyone come into our home to take him, are we?”

There was a resounding shout of _no_ from the whole circle, including one slightly bolder _heck_ no. Dieter was spending his time attached to Heckel again, it seemed. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Come on now, it’s about time to eat, isn’t it? Shall we make dinner then?”

Just as before there was a resounding cheer, but this one sounded just a little more enthusiastic.

Dinner was nothing special - a simple stew, something hot to fill their bellies. All things they grew themselves, or when they were lucky, something special pilfered from within Heine. They had found a decent mode of survival; living off the land, and occasionally, thieving - it wasn’t something Grimmer was against, and something that Heckel was quite skilled at. Heine had thrown each of them out for one unfounded reason or another; not a single one among the foundlings of the Glade held any remorse from taking meager morsels from the bountiful wealth of their privileged neighbour. Spices, warm clothing, tools, medicines...things that were difficult to come by within the dark wood were readily snatched from Lord Heinemann. 

It was through the thieving network that Heckel kept their party in the know. How it was he discovered the angel’s feathers and even his blood had become hot items on the market.

“It’s lookin’ real bad out there. Like the scum off your boot helpin’ the filthy, disgustingly rich and powerful kinda bad. The word out there’s that Heinemann’s court has some sorta bounty out on this guy. Y’know, like they got on you, but we’re talkin’ like three more zeroes. And it sounds like anybody who’s done wrong by the country will get a full pardon if they hand him in too. So hey, me n’ you could-”

Heckel immediately snapped his jaw shut at the look Grimmer leveled him with and raised his hands defensively, backpedaling as fast as he could.

“Hey I...that was a joke. Bad taste maybe, I get it, but it was a joke. C’mon I mean, sure I ain’t a saint but that’s, you know. I’m not, uh…”

The man floundered a little, before finally deflating with a seemingly sincere look on his face. Grimmer supposed he might have looked a bit harsh, but he found it hard to make light of that sort of thing right now, after the exchange he’d shared with Tenma. Even joking about sending him back there...

“Yeah, alright, that was bad. I’m done.” Heckel cleared his throat, tugging at his ponytail awkwardly. “Point is, Heinemann’s really tryna sell some kinda alliance with the nasties...everyone and their mother’s gonna be on the lookout for this guy. The Glade’s only gonna keep him safe so long, y’know? Put enough goons together ‘n they’ll figure out where he is in this maze.”

Grimmer sighed, glancing out toward the boys, now playing together after their dinners. It was true, of course. Keeping Tenma safe wasn’t going to be easy. There was a good chance they’d have to move, cross the hills and find refuge there. 

“I know.” he murmured, leaning his head back and rubbing his temples. “And thank you. You’ve been a lot of help. I was a little grouchy just now…” He rubbed the back of his neck, closing his eyes. “He’s really been through hell. I can’t quite stomach those kinds of jokes.”

Heckel gave him a sidelong glance and shrugged a shoulder. “Nah, listen, I mean, I get it. Shoulda figured that was gonna get me in trouble. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Grimmer nodded, satisfied. Speaking of him...it was probably a good time to go pay a visit, now. There was still plenty of stew, so he could bring something to eat, if Tenma was still around.

“I’m going to get him some food now. Can you get the boys to bed in a few hours?”

Heckel scoffed. “If they’ve stopped running around by then. So no.”

Grimmer chuckled, waving with a quiet ‘thanks’ anyway.

* * *

When he returned to his cabin, it was to find Tenma sitting outside, staring at the sky. His hair was wet, and his shirt was nowhere to be found. He looked Grimmer’s way, and he...well…

Grimmer swallowed thickly, turning his gaze away, blinking rapidly. He had been expecting the angel to be gone, in all honesty, so to see him was shocking enough - even more so to see him shirtless. He wasn’t embarrassed, exactly - he just wasn’t quite sure if it was appropriate to look. Instead he looked up toward the sky himself - the lovely pinkish yellows where the sun was starting to set.

“I’ll admit, this is a surprise. I really did think you’d probably leave. Though I do wonder what happened to the shirt I gave you.”

There was a momentary pause. He could tell the angel was calm, at least, by the relaxed sound of his breathing. 

“It was restrictive around my wings. I washed it and hung it out to dry.”

Grimmer nodded. Restrictive...he felt a little bad about that. The last thing he wanted was for the angel to feel in any way confined. But, he’d relieved himself of that. He was glad that Tenma felt comfortable enough to refuse something he was given - it seemed like a strange thing to be glad for, but it meant that the angel was acting even in small ways on his freedom. He was unafraid to make choices for himself.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Grimmer tilted his head to show he was listening, but didn’t turn.

“Do what now…?”

“You’ve already seen me. It’s not like I have anything more to hide.” 

...Ah.

Slowly, and a little sheepishly, Grimmer turned. He itched the side of his head and shrugged, offering a squinty smile. 

“I wasn’t sure if it was rude. But, I suppose that’s true.”

Now looking the angel in the eye, he held up his other hand, offering the bowl toward him.

“It might not taste the best, but I have dinner for you. If you want it, that is.”

Tenma looked cautiously between Grimmer and the bowl before nodding, reaching out to take it. Grimmer headed toward the door, pulling it open and gesturing for Tenma.

“You can eat outside if you like, but the bugs tend to get very bitey around now.”

Tenma took his offer, and the two sat together in the modest dining room. Grimmer had already eaten - he felt a bit bad now, his meal had been warm but Tenma was eating it cold...but, the angel didn’t seem the least bit bothered. He ate slowly, nursing the stew over time, even as the sun fell lower and lower into the night.

After a while, Tenma set the bowl down, staring at the table in front of him. It looked like he had something on his mind, but Grimmer stayed quiet, giving the man time.

“If you really wanted to use me, I think…” Tenma broke off, staring at his lap. “You’ve had plenty of opportunity and didn't take it. You left me with the means to leave, if I wanted to. I’m willing to believe that...you might be sincere. So I want to thank you.”

The angel’s hands clasped into fists, his gaze turning away.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d still be there.” 

Grimmer took a slow breath and let it out, his face falling into a sad little frown.

“It was the decent thing to do.”

Really...the idea that he had, for weeks and weeks, been enjoying his time in the Glade with the boys, while this angel was tortured on the daily...that was the most harrowing thought.

But now...now that it seemed Tenma was open to talking to him, he wondered...if he might be able to confirm his suspicions. Grimmer felt his chest clench again, trying to catch the angel’s gaze.

“May I...ask you something?” 

He started tentatively, watching the curious look that crossed Tenma’s face, even as he stood with the bowl, looking a little lost as to what he was to do with it. Grimmer gestured toward the counter wordlessly. He stood, walking over toward the window. Sitting down felt inexplicably uncomfortable.

“It’s something that’s a bit personal. You’re not obligated to answer, if you don’t want to.”

Tenma looked wary again, but gave a slow nod. By now he understood that when given a choice, he was allowed to act on either option without repercussion. Grimmer looked at his hands.

“When I brought you here, I took a peek at your wings to assess any damage. I saw the discolored feathers. Tenma…”

Looking up again, he could see that the angel was distressed. Not terribly so, but he refused to meet Grimmer’s eyes. His wings had folded down against his back as he stared at the wall.

“You can’t fly right now, can you.”

Tenma stood with his jaw set, face pallid. He was trying to keep his face stony, but Grimmer could see the faint fear in his eyes. Grimmer’s deep blues closed morosely. 

“It seemed odd to me. The brutal violence...starving you...both of those are far beyond what’s necessary to pluck an angel's feathers. But Lord Heinemann isn’t after that, is he? He was trying to make you fall. He was trying to take your wings.”

He didn’t open his eyes, but from the small, choked sound that Tenma made, he could only assume he was correct. 

If an angel were to sin, his or her wings would fall away; sin rotted the roots, and the angel would become an ordinary mortal. The wings, however...there were different variations of the story; in one version, to take an angel’s wings was to make him subservient. In the second, an angel’s wings, worn by another, granted that angel’s power to the wearer. 

If taking an angel’s feathers was a horrific experience, stealing his wings as a whole was devilish. But, it made sense, now; depriving him of food...the violence...they were trying to provoke the angel. Torture like that...pain begetting desperate retaliation...hunger giving way to temptation...and there was no telling what else. Those were only the methods Grimmer had come to be aware of through deductions of his own.

Torturing an angel until he acted out, until he gave in to sin...was a thought that made his stomach churn.

Grimmer looked up again. Tenma was staring at that same part of the wall, his eyes filled with a glassy, haunted pain. Grimmer dragged a hand down his face with a soft curse under his breath. Slowly he stepped toward the angel, but that seemed to be the wrong course of action; he watched as the man twitched, stepping backward, wings flaring halfway. Grimmer raised both hands, shaking his head. He waited until Tenma relaxed, but the angel still looked miserable. He turned his face away, clearly embarrassed or ashamed. But something like that...he shouldn't feel…

Grimmer heaved another sigh.

“The damage isn’t bad. It hasn’t spread very far. Right now you're safe, and I’ll do what I can to keep it that way. I can help you cross the hills safely, or if you like, you can stay here in the Glade, and we’ll shelter you while you recover. No one is going to take your wings.”

Tenma continued to stare at the wall, though he looked visibly more composed than before. He took a minute before he nodded slowly, clearly trying to keep himself under control, not like that very first outburst of tears. If he didn’t want to show those painful feelings, Grimmer respected that. Faintly, the angel turned his head - not quite facing Grimmer, but so that he could regard him from the corner of his eye.

“Does anyone else know?”

Grimmer shook his head. “I’m the only one who’s seen it, and probably the only one who knows what it means. I won’t tell anyone.”

He seemed to relax a little at that, taking a deep breath. The angel leaned sideways, into the wall, arms crossed against his chest. Grimmer glanced out the window, now a deep, pitch dark.

“You don’t have to decide now. It might be good if you got a little rest. I know….” Grimmer smirked slightly, though it felt hollow. “I know I need it. Didn’t sleep at all last night.”

There wasn’t much of a response from Tenma except a small nod. Grimmer looked around, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t exactly have a spare room you could sleep in. I do have blankets and pillows, if you’d like that. I don’t know what else we can do…”

“It’s all right. Just that is fine. Anything…”

Tenma broke off, staring out at the moon. “Anything is comfortable by comparison.”

Grimmer nodded solemnly. He kept quiet - there wasn’t much he could add to that statement, nothing that hadn’t already been said.

“I’d offer you some sort of nightshirt, but if that one was uncomfortable…”

“I’ll be fine. But thank you.”

Grimmer nodded. “In the morning...I’ll make you something good to eat. And we can see about getting you something to wear that won’t bother your wings. I don’t mind cutting out the back of a shirt or two, if that helps.”

He could only see it faintly, but there was a small smile on Tenma’s lips. Just that gave him a bit of satisfaction. Grimmer turned, rubbing his eyes. He had a few things to do before bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tenma has been through so much...but at least it's all in the past.
> 
> At least he has bird friends. I feel like that's mandatory in fantasy AU settings
> 
> I said angels in this fic are not biblical buuuut I'm still tying them to some vague religious aspects for plot stuff.


	4. The Field

It was difficult to sleep, now that Tenma had full governance over his body and his senses. The previous night had been fogged by the residual energy drain from the parasite; this time, with a day behind him, he was completely alert and aware. The offer of blankets and a pillow was kind, and they were incredibly soft and warm, but Tenma only felt restless. Everything smelled unfamiliar, or like that man. And while Grimmer had made his stance clear - that he wanted to _help_ Tenma - the closeness of anything that smelled human wasn’t very comforting. It felt suffocating, and it felt like he was being watched. At least once, when he’d reached a state of near sleep, he’d jolted himself awake with the feeling of a phantom touch and a voice that wasn’t there.

Sleep was dangerous. Sleep made him vulnerable. Not just to Grimmer - even in a state of exhaustion, he knew that the human wouldn’t be able to sneak up on him without making a sound - but to himself. To the places that his dreams might take him.

He didn’t want to go back there. He worried that he wouldn’t wake - that _this_ was the dream, that some small hope he might have had was nothing more than a fevered fantasy. 

Staying curled up like this wouldn't get him any rest. He left the blanket and pillows on the chair as he stood, moving as quietly as he could toward the door. What he needed was to be away from anything remotely human. He gave the wood a light shove, then another when it didn’t budge. It creaked, but not terribly loudly. Tenma stepped out into the night, the brisk air cold on his skin, but liberating nonetheless. It wasn’t cold enough to be any risk to his health; he’d endured more frigid nights in the cooler seasons. And here, with only the air around him and the sounds of the night, he at least felt a bit more comfortable. Not so confined. 

Grimmer had given him an offer - to help him leave, if he wanted. So long as he couldn’t fly, moving would have to be by foot, and that put him at a greater risk. The alternative, staying hidden in this place and relying on Grimmer and the “others” that he spoke of…

It wasn’t a good feeling, putting so much into the hands of humans. Grimmer was well-meaning, but to place so much trust at once was...difficult. He didn’t know…

He didn’t know.

And he suspected that sleep wouldn’t do much good to mull over that thought either.

* * *

When Grimmer rose in the morning, it was to find the blanket and pillows lying emptily on the comfy armchair with no occupant to be found.

He knew better than to presume Tenma had been abducted; were that the case, he would definitely have heard it. Living as an outlaw in a less than friendly forest village tended to make him a light sleeper; there were more than a few bandit camps that liked to try their thieving hand, though they had yet to succeed.

Much more likely, the angel had wanted some air. Or, he could have chosen to leave on his own. It would be a bit sad if that was the case, but Grimmer certainly wouldn’t blame him. He probably felt quite unsafe like this, sheltered by humans.

He set about to make tea, heading outside for just a moment as he waited for the water to boil. The sky had only just started to brighten, and the cool air felt refreshing on Grimmer’s face. He was still a little tired, but he’d managed to get a bit of sleep at least. More than the night prior.

There was a rustle from above and, looking up, he caught sight of just where Tenma had gone to.

Admittedly it was a very beautiful sight; he sat comfortably on the rooftop, staring out at the sky’s lovely pastels, light starting to shine against him in a soft warm glow that gave his feathers a truly fantastical shimmer. It was hard not to stare; the angel was already ethereal, but the morning glow made him nearly haunting in that beauty. Though, he seemed to notice he was being watched, turning those tired gold eyes toward Grimmer. The man waved up with a small smile, choosing not to hide that he'd been watching. There was little point, when he'd been caught in the act.

“I wondered if you might be out here. Not cold, are you?”

Tenma brought his arms up around his knees, the posture decidedly more relaxed and calm than defensive, not like the previous day.

“Not really.”

Grimmer supposed it was possible that an angel simply didn’t get ‘cold’ - or, that it took a chillier temperature than for a human. He wouldn’t have thought so, since they looked so similar to humans - except for the wings, of course.

“I’m making tea, if you’d like any.”

Tenma blinked, then nodded, turning his face back into the light.

“I’ll join you shortly.”

It felt strangely as though Grimmer was intruding upon a moment for the angel. He nodded, retreating back inside to take care of the tea, hearing the high-pitched hiss from within. He felt more cautious this morning than the last; a part of him wanted to engage Tenma - asking him how he slept, if he was comfortable, all things that were ordinary, customary to ask a guest. But, it felt a little bit wrong; he could almost guarantee that Tenma’s rest was not kind to him, not right away. Sleep was often a place that frightful visions took hold after such a traumatic experience.

If the angel wished to address anything so personal, then Grimmer would allow Tenma to broach the topic himself. For now, he allowed the tea to steep, waiting until his guest let himself back in. Even now, Tenma seemed quite a bit more refreshed. Weary, but it didn’t look as though he was about to collapse. Grimmer held out the tea, smiling warmly as Tenma took it from him. He brought it to his face, breathing it in first. Grimmer was patient, taking a sip of his own tea, watching as Tenma finally brought his drink to his lips. Even still, his eyes went to Grimmer, cautious and questioning. 

“I don’t think I have anything that could poison you in my pantry, but you’re welcome to look, if you’re worried about that.”

Gold hues flicked away and there was the faintest flush of pink on his face just then. Tenma shook his head, taking a drink as though to prove a point. Really though Grimmer didn’t mind...he was allowed not to trust what was put in front of him, after all he’d been made to endure. Grimmer hummed, turning around and fussing about in the kitchen.

“I thought I might make you something to eat that had a little more weight to it. Some fresh eggs, if you’re up to that.”

Tenma looked up from his tea, setting it down with a small frown, his gaze falling down to stare into the drink. Something about him seemed so sad, as he stared into that reflection.

“I’m not sure that I could.”

Grimmer glanced over, rather glad he hadn’t made to crack any eggs just yet. He set the one he'd been holding down, looking back to Tenma, waiting for further elaboration. The angel didn’t look up, seemingly drawn in by whatever he saw in the reflection on his tea.

“I’ve eaten so much in the last day. It doesn’t feel right. I just don’t know if I could hold it down.”

Grimmer...supposed that made sense.

Even if the angel hadn’t eaten a terribly large amount of food, his body simply wasn’t accustomed to eating on regular intervals. Still, eating _nothing_ probably wasn’t good either. A morning meal was especially important to get the body moving, and food would help him to get used to a more regular eating schedule. Grimmer tapped his chin, looking to the ceiling as he picked up his tea, breathing in the aroma. Something else to eat...he could make a porridge, but that would probably sit just as heavily as a more substantial meal. There was more fruit, of course, but he wasn't so sure that Tenma would want to eat the same th…

Oh!

“Well, then, what would you say to wild berries...?” 

Tenma blinked at him owlishly, but didn’t immediately refuse his suggestion.

“There’s a very nice place nearby where wild raspberries grow. They’re especially sweet, and small, but there’s a lot of them. You can eat as few or as many as you like.” Grimmer paused, that more severe expression back on his face for a moment. “Right now it’s really important that you do eat on a regular basis. Even in small portions. Eating will help your body to get stronger, which will help you heal faster, and you can work your way up to proper meals over time.”

The angel seemed to think about it, though it looked as though he was still a bit troubled; his grip tightened on the teacup, and he drew a slow breath. It looked like there was something on his mind, but he didn’t say anything; he just nodded, looking back up to Grimmer.

“I think...I could manage that.”

Ah, he was glad. That would be something good for Tenma...taking him to that spot, away from the small space of his cabin and into a more natural environment...that would probably help him to feel a little more at home, a little more safe.

There was another moment of silence, the angel reaching subconsciously to touch the back of his neck. He shuddered once, his hand falling away again so he could bring the tea back to his lips. For whatever troubled thoughts stirred in his mind, it seemed the tea brought him comfort. Grimmer watched him with a furrowed brow.

“Does it hurt?”

It took the angel a moment to register what Grimmer meant, by the slight frown on his face. Finally, though, he shook his head.

“No. It just feels like…” He broke off, rolling his shoulders. “Sometimes I have to make sure.”

Tenma was probably...experiencing phantom pains. Whatever that thing was, he was used to it being there - had to make sure it really was gone.

“Do you mind if I ask what it was?” He chose his words carefully - allowing Tenma to refuse was important, if he felt it was unsafe to share that information with a human. Grimmer went to pour himself some more tea; he held up the kettle, and Tenma gave a curt nod, allowing him to pour a little more for the two of them.

“It’s a type of artificial parasite humans created. It feeds on the energy of its host until it's removed, or the host dies. They’re an effective way to subdue angels. It won't kill us, and traditional sedative methods don't work.”

He saw the slight tension in the angel's hand as he said that. Grimmer...chose to shut out his ugly thoughts; what Tenma endured was for him to share willingly, not for Grimmer to speculate upon. It felt a bit intrusive. He made a face, eyes going to the cupboard where he had put that sickly little thing. Tenma followed his gaze, tensing a little. It seemed he understood what Grimmer was thinking, eyes going back to the man questioningly. Grimmer raised a hand placatingly.

“I'm not holding onto that thing. I just wasn’t sure how to dispose of it. I didn’t know if trying might hurt you.”

Tenma took a moment before he visibly relaxed, nodding, his expression a little more understanding.

“Leave it out under the sun. They can’t survive in the light without a host.”

With a hum, Grimmer set his tea down, heading toward the cupboard to retrieve his little jar. The pitch-dark contents had changed shape, now a perfectly round sphere that sat in the middle of the glass surface. 

“Definitely a good thing I didn’t touch you, hm?”

He brought the jar to one of the windows, drawing it open to set the little thing down. That particular spot got quite a bit of sun in the summer - something he’d learned when he had tried to keep some lovely plants there only for the poor things to dry out. He drew the window shut again, turning toward Tenma with a nod.

"Now, I believe I said something about getting you something that would be more comfortable to wear. I'm not exactly used to having an angel around, but I think..."

Grimmer paused, scratching at the collar of his shirt idly as he thought.

"If I were to take a lighter shirt and cut around the back...so that it's open around here..." He turned around, gesturing toward the shoulder blade area. "...would that be something that would work? Something a little more loose, that would keep your wings free."

Tenma seemed to think about it, his wings ruffling just slightly. Finally, he gave a small nod of assent.

It wasn't the _best_ fit - a bit long on the shorter man, but the dark green material seemed much more breathable. Tenma had no difficulty with his wings, even seemed just a little more comfortable. He picked at the material a bit, letting his wings unfold halfway and fold back again. He was keeping his expression fairly neutral, difficult for Grimmer to gauge what he felt about it. Though, he did finally look up and nod.

"It feels a bit strange, but I'll get used to that. Thank you."

He sounded just a little apprehensive, but grateful; probably he wasn't used to this sort of thing, someone bothering with his needs at all. Grimmer smiled warmly, heading toward the door.

“I'm glad! Then, shall we go raspberry picking?”

* * *

Unlike most of the fruit and vegetables in the Glade, the raspberries had always been there; they grew in a shady little area among the trees, branching out toward a lovely field of flowers - daisies, mostly, and a few others he couldn’t name. He was familiar with these flowers but he’d never been one to know what they were called. Tenma seemed quietly entranced, much more at ease among the trees outside of the little forest home. Grimmer crouched down, plucking a few raspberries, popping one into his mouth.

“There’s nothing quite like freshly picked raspberries. Of course, you’re sort of fighting with the animals to get to them. Everyone seems to agree they’re quite tasty.”

He picked a little branch, ignoring the bite of the prickly stems as he held it out to Tenma.

“Just be careful, they do bite back.”

Tenma quirked a brow at him, taking the stem into his hands. He looked at it for a little while, before indulging in a few of the sweet, juicy berries. He closed his eyes and shuddered, but this time it seemed to be a good sort of shudder. Something so good...he hadn’t eaten yummy things like that in a long, long time. Grimmer plucked another one for himself. 

“Before we started growing our own fruits and vegetables, I ate these all the time when they were in season. I never got sick of it, though. Raspberries really don’t ever stop being good.”

He popped another in his mouth, pausing to look up, catching the slight flutter of movement a little ways away. It looked like the bramblings were being particularly friendly - unusually so, flitting about and twittering at Tenma with their lovely little voices. As Grimmer watched, the angel raised a hand and one of the birds landed on it. Another found a perch on his shoulder, though both dispersed when Grimmer moved again - admittedly an error on his part. Tenma turned with a small, sheepish smile.

“I’m not quite sure why they like me so much. That’s not a common trait among all angels.”

Grimmer couldn't help the gently fond look that crossed his face. Ah, now that was especially charming...to think that Tenma was, in some way, so incredibly mesmerizing to such sweet animals…

"Even the forest seems happy to welcome you."

Tenma nodded, then faltered. The angel’s face fell, his gaze dropping as he crouched to pick a few berries for himself. He turned the stem in his hand and squeezed, his finger pricking on the sharp little thorns only to heal back again.

“I keep wondering when I’m going to wake up. When it’s going to start again."

His voice was soft, apprehensive as he stared at the stem of berries. "I’m afraid that when it does, I won’t be strong enough to keep fighting.” 

Grimmer wiped his brow, that familiar stinging starting to ache his heart. The suddenness of it...no longer being held in that place, having the freedom just to walk about among the flowers and the trees, talking to the birds and eating raspberries...it was an immense shift. Grimmer nodded solemnly. 

“I guess it’s hard to accept that it could just be over like that.” 

Tenma shook his head, eyes closing. "I barely recognize myself when I see my own face. It doesn't really feel real."

Grimmer sat back, taking a deep breath as he stared up at the lightening sky. "No, it's probably really strange right now. But it's definitely real...you really are free. And if someone were to come after you again..."

Grimmer tilted his head, giving his best reassuring smile. "You won't have to fight alone."

Tenma looked at him with those impossible golden eyes. It was difficult to read what he was feeling again - he was good at that, at keeping things to himself. Protecting his emotions from the outside.

“There was no obligation for you to help me. You went to enormous lengths, even getting yourself caught to do it. You’ve made more than hospitable offers to help me even though I’m a stranger to you. But there’s one thing you haven’t done. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me. Mr. Grimmer…”

Tenma’s gaze hardened, his shoulders squaring, though he looked a little uncertain. 

“Just what debt do I owe?”

Ah…

Grimmer could feel himself relax. He had been a little worried what that spiel was going to be, but this...he understood the inherent worry that Tenma must have. This human saved him, claimed it was for no reason except that it was the ‘decent’ thing to do. That was not the world Tenma was accustomed to. No doubt he expected a fee - a number of his feathers, a favour, or something like that.

Grimmer tapped his chin, looking skyward for a moment.

“What you owe….” he murmured, his tone thoughtful, light and whimsical. He could feel the angel’s eyes on him, but didn’t meet his gaze at first, taking a moment to think about it. Finally, he turned a softer smile on Tenma.

“I think that one day, I would like to see you smile. A real one. I think you’d have a very nice smile, it’d definitely be beautiful to see.” He paused, gaze turning up toward the sky, and he gave a more confident nod. “Yeah, I think something like that would be really rewarding.”

Tenma just stared at him. He opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything; whatever he might have said seemed to be lost on his tongue, for now. The poor man looked bewildered, confused. Grimmer shrugged, leaning forward to pluck a few more berries.

“I don’t think that I could accept anything from you, even if you made the offer yourself. After all, the only thing I did was remove you from a horrible situation you should never be forced to endure in the first place. I didn’t give you anything that you don’t already deserve. Don’t you think it would be a bit cruel, to then take from you myself?”

He didn’t receive any immediate verbal response, but Grimmer caught the small sound of confusion...as though Tenma’s voice had caught, like he was just a little overwhelmed. Grimmer turned his gaze on the angel, and sure enough, Tenma’s eyes appeared wide, and just a bit glassy.

“I can’t begin to imagine how many horrible things you’ve had to endure, all at the hands of humans like myself. Stuff like that...what I just said now, that probably isn’t a philosophy you heard much of, right? But the way I see it…”

He turned a stem in his hands, gaze falling back down as he contemplated.

“You had your livelihood stolen from you. Something that you naturally should be owed was lost. Setting you free is only giving that back. And even then, it’s not enough. It isn’t as though I can give your life back exactly as it was. Taking from you would be like...making you pay for your freedom, something I have without any charge at all. You have no debt with me.”

Tenma lowered down to sit near Grimmer - still a comfortable distance away, beyond arm’s reach. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out. His shock at Grimmer’s response seemed to have died, but he seemed quite tired nonetheless.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Grimmer hummed and shrugged a shoulder. “Then don’t, it’s okay. I’ve probably confused you quite a bit. I’m not like the humans you’re used to. Heine is quite a different place from the Glade. I’d like to think I’m raising the boys here to be kind and to understand the value in all the things I just told you.”

Tenma seemed curious, but he didn’t pry. And, Grimmer didn’t elaborate - now wasn’t the time for that, not so soon. If he chose to stay, then Grimmer would be more than happy to regale him with tales of the family he had knit together in this wild wood. But for now it was an unnecessary story. He leaned back, basking in the warming glow of the sun, now more visible as time ticked by. He reached with a hand and gestured toward a row of tall poplars in the distance.

“That way, that’s where we’d go if you wanted to leave the Glade and head through the hills to the other side. It’s about a three day’s journey all the way across. It’s not exactly easy terrain. I can maneuver my way through it, but I have a feeling Lord Heinemann and his Noble Guard wouldn’t be so knowledgeable.” He glanced over to Tenma. “So, if that’s the path you want to take, we can start putting things together to make the trek.”

He let that thought settle, busying himself with yet another raspberry. Tenma probably had a lot to think about; either way, he was in a bit of a difficult situation. Avoiding Heinemann’s men on his own was a bit dangerous - crossing the hills was the best bet, though it also meant exposing himself to the same dangers of a difficult environment. Staying in the Glade...meant placing quite a bit of trust in the humans that resided there.

“For now I think...”

Grimmer turned to face the angel, waiting for him to finish, only for the angel to go abruptly tense, his eyes shooting up and away, towards something in the distance. It was so sudden, like he'd been startled by a noise. Something perhaps he felt threatened by.

Grimmer slowly stood, shifting a little nearer to Tenma, on the alert. He hadn’t heard or seen anything, but he trusted the angel probably had a better sense for these things than he did. And, sure enough, after another second or two he could hear it. Rustling, but very faint.

Grimmer gestured toward the poplars, backing his way in that direction, but keeping himself between Tenma and the sound. Once the angel was out of sight, he relaxed just a little, though kept his guard up.

“Not bad, but you’re going to have to try a little harder to sneak up on me.”

The fellow in the woods snickered.

“Think I’d be makin’ noise if I was sneakin’ around?”

Grimmer relaxed, closing his eyes. Heckel slipped out from the far side of the grove, arms crossed. He looked somewhat perturbed, eyes going to the trees behind Grimmer.

“Quit playin’ in the flowers with the prettyboy, you can try n’ charm him later. Looks like the you-know-whos are back. Ain’t too happy after ya trounced ‘em last time.”

“And, are the boys ready?”

Heckel grinned wickedly and nodded. Grimmer returned it with a twinkle in his eye and a fleeting little smirk.

“Then shall we play a little game…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should've mentioned this earlier but No Kinderheim means Grimm has full range of his emotions. Anyway first "real" cliffhanger...wooh


	5. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of homophobia and some more dehumanization in this one because damn people suck

What made the wild wood so treacherous was less the ways of nature herself; it was instead the numerous bandit camps that loitered about, waiting for travelers to pilfer from. Even Grimmer’s camp within the Glade could be considered such a 'threat', though they operated with a bit more class than most. A more honest way of life - growing food for themselves, stealing only what they could not achieve on their own, only what was needed.

Unfortunately, their infamous leader made them a rather favoured target.

Grimmer’s bounty was well enough known; it was worth the wealth of a king with more to spare. It was thanks to the attacks from bandits that Grimmer had come to be so adept at survival; after all, if he were to fail, it would end with the gallows, or a very unhappy life in a cage. He couldn’t afford to lose! So, he learned how he could use the Glade to hide, and how to transform the wild wood into his own weapon. 

It was through such misadventures he had first come to meet Heckel. 

The man was small game; a wanted crook, a thief of considerable skill who had eluded Lord Heinemann’s noble guard, caught instead by the bandits of the wild wood. Grimmer had freed the man in his duel with the bandits and, when given an opportunity to fight, the weasely little man had come to his aid. He was the first victim of Heine’s rule that Grimmer had aided; Heckel marked the turning point in a life of fleeing. Now, they were a band of misfit tricksters who found play in their run-ins with the truly crooked - men who sold the freedom of those Heine loathed, hoping to lick the boots of Lord Heinemann and share in the country’s wealth.

Though now, with an angel under their protection, the stakes were a little higher.

Heckel had gone ahead, back to lead the boys. Ordinarily Grimmer would lead the charge, but things being as they were, he had a very unsettled angel to bring to safety. He knew well enough what the likes of bandits would do, if he was discovered. Heckel could lead just as well, and the boys knew the drill; it wasn’t anyone’s first bandit attack, after all. They had traps set for intruders, and their own personal armory - as much as one could call it that. Weapons made from what resources they had or could scavenge weren’t quite the majesty of what Lord Heinemann’s men wielded. But even their makeshift traps and weapons served well enough. With clever, witty Heckel at their lead, they would be just fine. 

Grimmer headed back into the trees, to where Tenma had kept himself from view. He seemed agitated, though that was understandable; so soon after his rescue, there was already a threat to take his newfound freedom away. Grimmer offered a placating smile.

“It’s all right. That person just now...he's someone who won’t hurt you. He helped keep Heinemann’s men busy when I sprung us both.” Grimmer made sure to mention that Heckel had been present for the angel’s rescue; simply saying that he was ‘a man that could be trusted’ would do very little for someone who had no reason to trust others; however to make it known that Heckel had been a part of his own rescue would hold just a little more meaning. His smile faltered just a little as he glanced outward.

“He just came to warn me that there's trouble. There are bandits that roam about, and some would like to claim the reward for my head. Unfortunately they picked a bad time to come after me. I didn’t want this to be your first experience in the Glade.”

He tilted his head, nodding over his shoulder, back the way they'd come.

“I said that you’d be sheltered here, and I meant it. So let me take you where it’s safe.” He paused, doing a few mental calculations. "We might want to take a different path...less visible to the eye. But I'll get you back to safety, if you'll come with me."

This was probably a lot to expect of Tenma...in a situation with real danger, having to trust Grimmer to help him was a bit more than he should be expected to accept. But, even if the angel seemed a little wary, he nodded and started to follow regardless.

Grimmer kept them on the ground for now; he would much prefer to use the trees to his advantage, but the angel was definitely too weak for that as he was. The man had barely been mobile a day, and his wings were definitely sore. Nothing good would come of having him climb through precarious branches on minimal strength. So, he weaved them through the twisting maze of trees below - a bit difficult and treacherous for twisted ankles, but it was better than walking in open spaces.

He could hear the wild chase in the distance. The snapping of branches, sudden shouts, the whistling as objects moved through the underbrush. He kept them away from the sound as best he could, changing their course just slightly when it seemed the sounds grew nearer. Ordinarily he would hope to join in the fun, but the way things were he didn’t fancy the thought of leaving Tenma to his own devices. With the state he was in...

Grimmer glanced back toward him. The angel looked terribly pale. Running away from humans….this was probably a bit too familiar for him. More than that, he seemed to be struggling just a little; running about, forcing his body to exert itself after being in chains for much of his time imprisoned, was definitely a challenge to the angel. Grimmer gave his best reassuring smile.

“It’s going to be all right. I’ve almost got you back to shelter. Just a little further. Can you do that?”

Tenma nodded, though he looked only half sure of it. Grimmer started them moving again, where the trees had started to thin a little, with more space between them. There was a clearing ahead they'd have to cross, and that would be trouble; it put them completely in the open, and if they were spotted, that certainly wouldn’t bode well for either wanted man. Grimmer held up a hand to halt their movement just at the edge of the trees, where they were still out of sight. He lowered down, staying absolutely still as he listened for movement. 

Very faintly, he could hear the crunch of twigs. Someone was there - not far, and most likely aware of their general location. Grimmer let out a soft whistle, one reminiscent of the birds that had been flitting about Tenma earlier. He waited a few moments for a reply; that none was given told him well enough that whoever their follower was, it was no friend of theirs. So, they were being tailed by a lone bandit. Grimmer turned toward Tenma, raising a finger to his lips and gesturing for the angel to come a little closer.

“You definitely have a better sense of hearing than I do.” he breathed, keeping his voice quiet, barely above a whisper. “About how far is he, would you say?”

Tenma looked between Grimmer and the faint sound in the distance. He closed his eyes, seemingly trying to concentrate. He shook his head. “Close. Coming closer.”

It wasn’t particularly a measurement of distance, but the angel was under quite a bit of stress. Those fears of his were probably just a little too fresh to expect clear thought. Grimmer looked around, drawing his hand across the soil below until he found what he was looking for; a sizeable, heavy rock that fit nicely in the palm of his hand. He stood just a little from his crouch, drawing an arm back. He could hear the fellow just a bit nearer now. Near enough that he could probably hear them, too. 

With a considerable forward force, Grimmer chucked the stone through the trees. It made a heavy noise as it whizzed through the untamed grasses and struck the wood of a tree, startling several birds from the branches. It was an old trick, but one that worked well enough in heavy woods like these. Grimmer started across the flatland between the treelines, Tenma stumbling after him with a little more difficulty, though he managed all the way across. Once they’d reached the other side, the angel had needed to pause for breath, leaning heavily against a tree. Grimmer took that opportunity to restock - picking a few more stones he might use as needed. Unfortunately, the bandits had chosen a rather rude opportunity to attack; he wasn’t properly armed, when he’d taken Tenma out to the fields that morning. But, a few blunt projectiles was better than nothing.

There was a snap of branches somewhere nearby, causing Tenma to startle. It was no human that made that noise, though, as revealed by an unhappy looking raccoon making its way up into a tree. Tenma was gripping his arms tightly again, staring off into the distance; that was something that Grimmer had noticed, a thing that the angel would do when he was particularly distressed. He crouched in front of Tenma. Normally he would offer some sort of gesture....touching his arm, or his hand, but something like that probably wouldn't be met very well. Instead, he offered his voice.

“Don’t worry. No one is going to hurt you. We’re almost there, now. Do you think you can make it the rest of the way?”

He reached a hand out slowly - an offer that Tenma could choose to accept or refuse. Gold hues moved from Grimmer to his outstretched hand, slowly absorbing the intent of the gesture. Finally, he gave a small nod, pushing himself upright without the aid of Grimmer’s hand.

To Tenma, being touched was probably an inherently uncomfortable feeling. Grimmer let his hand fall to his side, letting him know that he didn't intend to pursue. He seemed a little more at ease, now that he was back on his feet, and seemingly stable. Grimmer smiled.

“You’ve gotten this far. Only a little more. Let’s go. We'll take it slowly.”

* * *

Grimmer stayed with Tenma at the cabin, even after he was sure that it was safe. Leaving him alone seemed a poor choice; he was definitely weakened and tired, in no condition for Grimmer to leave him alone so that he could go out gallivanting with the boys. But, he did keep an ear out; if there was trouble, then he couldn’t abandon those children. He trusted them to take care of themselves, but they were only boys, in the end. 

“I’m sorry this morning went so poorly.” he murmured, his voice low. Tenma looked up, blinking slowly, though he said nothing with words. He shrugged a shoulder, seemingly a little more at ease now, if a little wary. Grimmer sighed.

“I sort of asked you to trust me very suddenly just now. I can't imagine that was easy. I wouldn't normally put you in that situation, so I'm sorry about that."

It probably seemed like such a little thing to most - particularly as Tenma had seemed open to him earlier. But, there was a difference between holding an open conversation in a safe space, and having to rely on that person when a real danger was faced. Tenma had definitely been put in a bad spot. Deep blues looked over the angel with a soft sadness to them.

"I hope that you're not hurt, after all of that.” 

Tenma’s expression lightened and he looked away, out toward the window. He shook his head, staring into the distance.

“It’s nothing that you did wrong. I know you don’t want to hurt me.” He shrugged, relaxing just a little. "I'll be all right. I'm just not used to moving around so much or so quickly."

The angel’s stomach let out a low gurgle and he looked down with that faint flush. Grimmer handed him an apple, watching the angel turn it over and over in his hands.

“I have a hard time with what you said earlier. It's difficult for me to believe that someone would go so far for my sake and ask for nothing. I'm not used to that.”

He was being surprisingly open about those feelings now. The day before, Grimmer could barely get any words out of him. Although, it did still place him in an advantageous position...the angel knew little more than his name - was simply expected to accept that “Mr. Grimmer” was a good human who was willing to help him because he was kind. Grimmer leaned against the wall, looking out the window himself.

“You'll find that there are, in the world, humans that are capable of being kind. Not all of us are the monsters that Lord Heinemann paints us to be."

He paused, thinking for a moment. "Would it help, do you think, if you knew a little more about me? And this place?”

He could feel eyes on him, though there were no words spoken. All the same, Grimmer felt compelled to continue. 

“Everyone who lives in the Glade came from Heine. Most of the boys are orphans whose parents were taken when the laws became far stricter and crueler ten years ago. Though some - the older boys - are runaways...hungry children with sticky fingers that might have lost their hands, at the order of the venerable lord. Heckel was a man I sprang from bandits, not unlike those that were after me today. And me...I was like the older boys, a teenage runaway escaping punishment from the law.”

Not even the boys knew the extent of Grimmer’s own story. It was a story he rarely told - one that he would rather not sadden them with knowing. It was not their responsibility to bear his burdens, but his own. All that was known was that Grimmer had been outlawed, on the run for quite a long time. 

“I used to live in Heine, even before it became quite so prosperous. But, you wouldn’t know that. If you asked anyone, ‘Grimmer of the Glade’ is a phantom thief who appeared in history about ten years ago. Nothing is known about him. I did have a life there, when I was much younger. But I was erased. I don’t exist, you see.”

He could feel the anticipation in the angel, a curiosity that was piqued. Grimmer closed his eyes, smiling a small, if a little tired smile.

“When I was much younger, I was involved with another young man around my age. Something like that…” He shook his head, closing his eyes. “It’s seen as a sickness, in that country. It was something we kept quiet, but unfortunately I was found out. And, as he was the son of an important official, it was decided that I was the seducer that had tricked him with wickedness, and made his mind sick. As you can imagine, I didn’t stay long after that. I don’t think I’d be alive, if I had.”

Ah...that was probably a bit bold to admit. Something so personal...sharing it was a risk, of course; he couldn't say how the angel would respond. But telling something so secret of himself...it placed Grimmer on even ground with Tenma, whose flightless wings were no secret to Grimmer. Both had exposed something secret of themselves. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking back toward the angel. “After that, my personhood was erased. As far as Heine was concerned, I never existed. Living in this forest, I learned to make my own means of survival. And then, about ten years ago, Heine came into an incredible amount of wealth and fortune. It was viewed as a miracle achieved by the country's new leadership.”

Tenma stiffened, taking a slow, deep breath and letting it out slowly. Grimmer’s face fell, and he nodded solemnly. He could imagine what the angel was thinking by the way his wings drew tightly against his back. Whatever had happened to that angel could have been no less barbaric than the suffering Tenma endured. Grimmer's lips pulled in a deeper scowl.

“It's a bit strange that I was called the wicked one, when Lord Heinemann resorts to such depravity for his country’s prosperity. But I suppose he who stands atop the heap will make the rules as he pleases.”

He couldn't hide the bitter sound in his voice; the law had always had its flaws, but Lord Heinemann had condemned the nation under a strict rule that favoured the wealthy and damned the poor. It was an ugly way to live.

“Do you know…”

Tenma’s voice was hesitant, spoken softly from behind him. He was still holding that apple, still hadn’t taken a bite. Although now, Grimmer imagined he might not have an appetite at all. He swallowed thickly, his gaze downcast, dark hair cascading in front of his face.

“Do you know what happened?”

He wished he did. At the time, Grimmer had no such connections as Heckel and the thieving network, nor the orphan boys he would later take in. What news he heard of the angel was learned during his own escapades into Heine to steal for himself. But once a ‘resource’ had run dry...he couldn’t imagine there would be any reason for him to be kept any longer. And what would happen to an angel after that...

“I’m afraid not.”

There was a quiet moment, Tenma nodding silently, seemingly accepting of the answer, though certainly he sorrowed.

“You’ve been raising those boys here since then. Trying to survive.”

Grimmer hummed airily, managing a slightly less sad smile that time. “Something like that. It’s become a part of my job, to look after the people who have no means to do so for themselves. It’s a very difficult thing, trying to survive all alone when everyone else would like to see you dead. That’s why we all have each other’s backs. And why we have yours as well.”

The look on Tenma’s face was understanding...but then, of course it would be. As an angel, he was viewed by many as a rare commodity; something that could be used to garner wealth for oneself. He probably never imagined that humans might live in fear of a very similar fate to himself. And, that look in his eyes…

That was sympathy. Sympathy for humans...

The somber silence was broken only by the long and loud sound of crowing in the distance - a sound that, despite the heaviness surrounding him, brought a small smile to Grimmer’s lips. They had succeeded, as they always did. Though, the boys were probably wondering where he was, after all this time. He rubbed his temples, turning back toward Tenma with a thoughtful expression.

“It looks like the bandits have gone. We won. But, I’d like to check on the boys, and make sure that everyone’s all right. Do you think you'll be okay on your own, now that they're gone?”

Tenma looked up, then away with a small nod. "I'll be fine."

With a quick once-over of the angel - he did seem a little less unsteady now - and a nod, Grimmer turned away, starting toward the door.

“I’ll bring you back something good to eat. I think it’s important you get something really substantial in your system now. You nearly collapsed when we were running today. It’ll take you a lot of time to recover, but food will really help.”

Tenma nodded, then paused as Grimmer pushed open the heavy oaken door.

“I think…”

There was a long, trailing pause. Grimmer looked back over his shoulder. He could see it yet again….that uncertainty, the near-desire to speak cut off by some sort of nervousness, as though speaking wasn’t allowed. Grimmer gave a short nod to the angel. He looked up, then back toward Grimmer with those lovely eyes.

“I'd like to take your offer. To stay here, at least for a while. If I can't run for very long in the woods...” He trailed off, closing his eyes. "It's safer for me to stay, if you'll allow it."

Ah.

Truthfully he had thought the very same; the woods were certainly difficult to move about in at a run, but the hills were far greater a challenge. If Tenma was winded just today, then it was definitely a bad idea for him to endure a three-day journey through far rougher terrain. Grimmer couldn’t help the smile that crept across his lips.

“The Glade is your home for as long as you wish to stay.”

* * *

It was meant to be a night of celebration. To imagine that the wicked trickster Grimmer had finally been caught was a night to celebrate - but instead, it had turned to waste; not only did the villain escape, he had taken the angel with him. Truly an insult to the crown. And the _ever competent noble guard_ had failed to locate him, even after a day and a night of searching.

He had been so close, had _seen_ it with his own eyes. The stubborn bird had endured, but he was beginning to crack. The gradual darkening of his feathers, the way they felt when he touched them...finally, _finally_ the angel was starting to succumb, to give in. Pushed just a little further, the angel would fall, and his wings with him. To wear those wings for himself...to have that power at his fingertips...

But incompetent _fools_ had lost him his prize.

Lord Heinemann sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, daring not even to look at his assembly, so exhausted from his disgust. He had spent his rage; the daft men at his disposal were well enough aware of his anger. Now, he was simply exhausted. Exhausted and incredulous. With wings like that, the thing surely couldn't fly; how, then, did he pose greater trouble now than his first capture?

“It couldn’t be so _difficult_ to hunt a wounded bird. All I ask is you put him back in his cage. He was caught once before; _why_ does he pose such trouble now? He should be weakened. There is no excuse for your failures.”

Lord Heinemann looked upon the disdainful council and his 'elite' guard. The shameful soldiers stood tall despite their failure, though none dared look him in the eye. 

“It’s not like he’s alone out there. Those vermin got the upper hand in the Glade, we ain’t got a chance findin' him in that maze!”

Lord Heinemann closed his eyes, sighing yet again as he leaned back, head lolling in agony. “Then _burn_ it, if you must. Torch the forest. Smoke them out. See them try to hide their precious angel while choking on death.”

“But settin’ fire to the Glade is-”

_“I have an alternative proposition, if I may be allowed to speak, lord.”_

All eyes turned toward a man - slender, youthful in appearance, with light golden hair. He wore dark robes, and seemed to be the only one present who was neither councilman nor soldier. He bowed deeply to Lord Heinemann, and the man raised a hand, allowing the ethereal youth to continue.

“If the angel is guarded by thieves who live in the wood, I would suggest a different approach.” He gestured around the room with a delicate hand, eyes never leaving Lord Heinemann. “Men can be bought. Particularly those who have never known a king’s gold. My advice would be to offer the carrot before the stick. A trade. Wealth they could never spend in a lifetime, in exchange for the angel.” 

Lord Heinemann lifted his head, leering at the man.

“And if they refuse?”

The blonde didn’t flinch, simply staring into his elder’s eyes with those unearthly hues.

“Then we take something of theirs. Something dear. Something they couldn’t possibly live without.”

The blonde smiled, an oddly pleasant expression despite his tone.

"I have a plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp I'll just admit it Grimmer is gay Robin Hood in this AU lmao
> 
> And Heinemann is super gross but that's not new


	6. Omens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new warnings in this one surprisingly.

With the threat of the bandits over, the boys had gathered at the great dead oak. That was their secret spot - a place to meet when there was trouble, a place that allowed them to make sure that everyone was all right when all was said and done. It was deeper into the woods, close to where the hills rose toward the west. A landmark they all knew well.

Grimmer could hear the wild children even before he saw them. It was quite a different sight from only the day before - they had been much more docile then, civil gentlemen who were merely curious of their new guest. Now, on the highs of yet another victory, they were rambunctious and chaotic, with only two maintaining any sort of calm whatsoever; Wim and Izzy were the quieter among the boys, not quite so energetic as the rest. They had all truly made a mess of themselves - grass-stained, scraggly looking things that were more animal than boy. Heckel at the very least looked respectable, though he rarely allowed himself to be seen as less than charming. 

“Griiiiiiiiiiimmer!” 

He was rushed by one of the younger boys, who grabbed him by the sleeve and started pulling him along, not looking where he was going and instead smiling up at the taller man. “We scared them off! Real quick this time! The--” He cut himself off when he tripped over his own feet, laughing as he let go of Grimmer to dust off his pants. Grimmer just smirked as he watched the rest of the boys hoot and haw at the poor child’s expense. 

“While I’m sure that’s all fascinating, you probably should look where you’re walking, hm?” Grimmer teased, reaching out and fluffing the lad’s hair with a hand. He looked out at the rest, crouching down once he’d reached the wild masses. “Let’s see you all, then. Is anyone hurt? Have we taken a count?”

“All heads and bodies present. Minds are still all over the place. Manners completely gone outta their heads.”

Heckel had finally looked up from the incredibly meticulous task of picking dirt from under his nails and was glancing around the group with a general look of disdained amusement. From what Grimmer could see, everyone looked all right, with a few minor exceptions - there were scratches on arms and faces and legs here and there, most likely from branches and twigs. The only injury that gave any real pause was Dieter - Heckel had wrapped his arm already, but the red stain told him that Dieter had sustained more than just a few scrapes.

“Ouch, that looks painful.”

He kept his voice airy and calm. Dieter scrunched his face, touching the red spot with his other hand.

“It's my fault for getting too close. It hurt worse before, I'll be okay."

Grimmer nodded, letting the boy be. "Just make sure the bandages get changed. How are we for medical supplies?"

He posed the question more to the group than just to Dieter. Heckel was the one to answer, furrowing his brow as he did a little thinking.

"Pretty sure we got plenty to deal with somethin' like that. But I gotta see the doc anyway, with whatever's been goin' around. I got no plans on catchin' whatever these kids are carryin'."

They were lucky to see Schumann more than once a month. Schumann was sympathetic to the residents of the Glade, but he had a life of his own to live, and far too many communities to contend with. After all, they were only one small number that Heine had cast aside.

The boys were starting to calm down again, now that they’d had time to cycle that energy out of their systems. Dieter's focus moved from his arm to Grimmer, blinking up with caution in his eyes.

“He’s safe right? They didn't get him?”

The boys didn’t have to say anything - names or otherwise - for Grimmer to know who 'he' was. He gave a confident nod, relaxing backward in the grass.

“Yeah. He’s okay. I promised I'd protect him, didn't I?” He tilted his head toward the boys. "But it meant I missed out on the action with all of you. That's really too bad."

All the boys seemed relieved. Milos shook his head, messy hair flopping back and forth. “Don't feel bad, we got them to go away just fine without you!”

Grimmer’s eyes widened, a look of exaggerated shock crossing his face.

“So you’re saying that you don’t need me at all….?”

The alarmed response was almost instantaneous.

“N--”

“I didn't mean it like that!!”

“Nobody said we don't need you!”

There was an exasperated growl from somewhere on his left side.

“ _You can relax._ He’s pullin’ all your legs. Geez.”

Well...the brief scare was fun for the few moments that it lasted, but Heckel seemed a bit irritated by the additional volume that came from yelling children all trying to express themselves at once. Grimmer just chuckled and let himself relax a little while.

Really he was glad....glad that even without his help, these boys knew how to defend themselves and their home. He wouldn’t be able to play leader for them all the time, nor would Heckel. Things were getting dangerous in Heine, and if something happened to the two of them, he wanted to believe that the boys could take care of themselves.

He was glad to see that, if pushed, they could do it.

Grimmer stayed just a little while with the boys, listening as they traded their stories - how they separated the bandits, made them easier to pick off. That was the prevailing strategy the boys had been taught; they were smaller, but they could use their numbers to their advantage. If they could separate the bandits into smaller groups, it was easier to overpower them, even though they were grown adults.

Heckel was the one who prepared a meal for them all. As much as Grimmer wanted to enjoy it with the boys, there was someone else who was in need of something to eat, particularly after such a strenuous morning. He said his goodbyes to the boys, heading off back to the cabin, basket in hand. He could feel Heckel glowering at him from behind. Twice now he had left the poor man to deal with the boys in their wildest state...he did feel a bit bad, but knowing Heckel...he'd probably pay for it later. He'd definitely find a way to get back at Grimmer.

* * *

For the excitement of that morning, the remainder of the day offered relative peace to the inhabitants of the Glade. It gave Grimmer an opportunity to properly take a look at Dieter's arm and check their traps in the later afternoon. Tenma was in better spirits; certainly more than Grimmer anticipated to see him in after only two days, but then, the birds seemed to bring him quite a bit of comfort. Even late into the evening, Grimmer was unsurprised to find Tenma outside amidst his new avian friends.

He had the sense to stop a ways away this time, far enough that the birds hadn’t startled at his plodding footsteps. He watched for just a little while as the birds took turns diving about the angel's head and sitting on his shoulder. One particular brown speckled bird had nestled very happily in the angel’s hands, and looked almost ready to have a nap as Tenma gently brushed its feathers with his thumb. He was speaking to them, though Grimmer was too far to hear what he was saying. Golden hues flicked up toward him, and the angel gave a small nod of acknowledgement. 

There was a quiet moment of more dialogue, and then the birds dispersed after a little gesture from Tenma. The angel walked slowly to meet Grimmer, that one nestled bird still comfortably sat in his palm. Grimmer gave a casual wave.

"I hope I haven't interrupted an important conversation.”

Tenma smiled, glancing down at the comfortable little thing in his hands.

“I’m not sure they understand me, but I talk to them all the same. They sing beautifully; it would be rude not to answer.”

Ah, now that was quite a darling response. Grimmer couldn't help but chuckle.

“I suppose that’s true, isn’t it?”

Grimmer watched as the bird shifted a little, chirping tiredly. It seemed to be slowly rousing from its stupour. After a few moments, the little thing wriggled in the angel’s hands, fluffing out its wings. Grimmer stepped back, watching as the bird hopped across Tenma’s hand, chirped once more, and then took flight again. Grimmer hummed, raising a hand to shield his vision as he watched it leave.

"Was there something that you wanted to discuss with me?"

Tenma's open question was softly spoken as he too watched the bird leave. Grimmer closed his eyes, simply enjoying the last rays of light before the sun fell out of sight and the sky darkened.

"I imagine it's getting a bit late now, but I think that tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it, I'd like to show you around. If you're going to be staying here for a while, it's important that you know how things work. Where our secret places are. What traps we have in place."

He tilted his head, glancing toward Tenma. "I know that other humans are a little scary for you right now. I've told the boys to keep their distance. They'd very much like to meet you, but I think that's something you should decide for yourself. They're a little bit wild, and loud...but they understand it can be hard to adjust to a new place. I expect they'll behave themselves."

Tenma nodded, absorbing what he was saying without giving any immediate response. The two were quiet for a moment, simply...enjoying the air, the smell of the woods, the gentle breeze. Tenma let out a contented sigh beside him.

“You're really doing so much for my sake. It's something that I've noticed."

Tenma spoke softly, almost more to himself than to Grimmer at first. "From the beginning, you’ve made an incredible effort to be careful of me. I...wasn’t sure about it at first; I thought it might be a trap. That this was all to make me trust you, so that you could..."

He trailed off, turning toward Grimmer with a gentler expression. "But I don't think that's it. You’re...really just trying to be kind.”

Grimmer's eyes turned downcast for a moment. Truthfully...the fact that Tenma was aware of his actions made him feel just a little sheepish. He was glad at least to know that the angel was comfortable, but having his efforts acknowledged felt...a little embarrassing. He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling softly. He could feel that inexplicable guilty pang at his heart again, though he couldn't quite place why.

“I want to make sure that you feel okay here. That this is a place where you feel safe.” he murmured, looking out to the trees and the sky, starting to turn a deeper, darker blue. “You should be allowed to feel safe, and welcome, somewhere.” 

Tenma looked quietly appreciative, smiling thinly. He opened his mouth to speak-

-only for his expression to morph into a look of sudden shock.

Within just moments, Tenma was crumpling in on himself.

Grimmer had no time to think as Tenma went down; he dropped what he was holding, lurching forward and catching the angel with his own weight. He went down to a knee as Tenma fell forward into his shoulder, a hand braced against the angel’s arm to keep him steady. Tenma’s face was scrunched, his shoulders tense as he breathed through what seemed to be some sudden fit of pain. Grimmer didn’t move, allowing Tenma to brace against him as he worked through whatever had struck him so suddenly. After a few moments, he was breathing slowly again, squeezing his eyes shut as he collected his wits together. Even still, Grimmer didn't let go quite yet, unsure if he would be steady on his own.

“Are you all right…?”

Only after Tenma had started to calm did Grimmer speak, keeping his own concern to a minimum, though his elevated heart rate certainly didn’t help. Tenma took a few slow, deep breaths, finally pulling himself back to his feet. He took a moment to assess the situation, detaching himself from Grimmer and stepping back. Grimmer looked over the angel with a concerned little frown.

“Is everything all right now? Do you know what happened?”

It had come out of nowhere. Whatever that was...Tenma hadn’t been expecting it. Grimmer _definitely_ hadn’t expected it. It was possible that after so long spent unused, his muscles had spasmed violently, but something...didn’t seem quite correct in that, either. Probably there was something more. Tenma just shook his head, brushing hair behind his ear.

“I’m not sure. My wings just hurt all of a sudden. But it’s gone now.” He looked down, closing his eyes. “I haven't been able to move freely like that in months. The sudden change is taking its toll. That's probably all it is.”

If that was what Tenma thought...then that was probably the case. Grimmer gave a slow nod of his head.

“It’ll probably do that for a little while. But when you start to regain your strength, you’ll be back to normal.”

Tenma made a small sound of acknowledgement, turning that softer, barely-there smile back on Grimmer, though it looked just a little more tired now.

“I think...I'm going to try to get some rest. That's probably a sign that I need it. Thank you, though, for catching me. I think I'd rather avoid any further injuries, if possible.”

Grimmer shook his head, a little smile playing at his lips.

“It wouldn’t be a very polite thing to do, letting an angel fall, now would it?” he quipped. "Take all the time you like. If you need anything, you know where I am."

* * *

In the past week, Becker witnessed the wildest of declarations made by Heine's great ruler. Treasure beyond compare to he who returns the angel to "its rightful place", a full pardon to even the filth that plagued the outskirts of Heine for their cooperation, and - if rumours were to be believed - the great lord had even hired bandits to scout around the Glade. Becker didn't know, himself; his failure to guard the angel during active patrol had resulted in a temporary relief of duty - and so, whatever discussions were held amongst the ranks of the guard, he was privy to nothing.

All he knew was that, as of yet, there was no sign of the angel.

And now, more than a week later, the Noble Guard was finally beginning to stir.

Exactly why they had waited so long was something Becker didn't know. For how desperately Lord Heinemann wanted the angel back, he seemed to be oddly inactive; even if he _had_ hired bandits to scour the Glade, it was clear that they had failed in any attempt to bring him back. There was something else at play - something he wasn't aware of. There had to be a reason the lord had chosen to wait. Some sort of trap, perhaps? That wasn't Lord Heinemann's style, but that of his advisor, Johan - the man who had orchestrated the successful capture of the angel in the first place.

It was a somewhat bizarre situation. Johan was a foreigner - a man that had arrived in Heine several years ago by some mysterious means, introduced by their lord as a powerful ally. Rarely would a foreigner be granted such a position so near to the lord himself. And yet, he was situated as Lord Heinemann's right hand man. It was he who brought forward the weaknesses of angels - how to trap and subdue them. The Glade was a safe place, but Johan was a terribly clever man. If he had hatched a plan, a way to recapture that angel...

Becker needed to go to the Glade. He needed to go back there and warn them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh things are happening....
> 
> This chapter was kinda slow but originally it was supposed to have more to it....I just felt this was a better place to end it. There's a ton of foreshadowing here though so look for the callbacks :)


	7. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains discussions of child abuse and a somewhat distressing nightmare sequence. Nothing graphic happens it's just sad Tenma times.

It was still...a little difficult to comprehend.

Only weeks ago, Tenma had abandoned any hope of ever seeing the sun again. There was no way out. Lord Heinemann would eventually claim his wings, leaving Tenma as a mere husk of himself. He imagined that, once the man had what he wanted, the fallen angel would simply be executed; a quick disposal of something that was no longer needed. 

He would never have imagined to be _saved_ by humans. Even less did he imagine he would _live_ with them. Yet here he was, with the warmth of the sun on his face, the gentle brush of grass on his feet.

The Glade was a peaceful place, despite the chaos it represented. Orphaned children and lawbreakers that fled into the woods found home and family in the untamed natural environment, unsullied by the hungry greed of wealthy nobles. Here, in a world that was allowed to simply _be_ , Tenma felt at ease. He felt...like a _person._ And he owed it to the misfit residents of the Glade.

There were no walls to hold him, no restrictions to prevent the angel from acting however he pleased. He could simply exist, could spend his days however he desired. It was a bit much to accept at once. Those first days, he rarely ventured far; only between those three places he knew the best - the flower field, the stream, and the cabin he now shared with Grimmer. He had a room for himself there, if he so wanted it. Grimmer had made a point to clear out space in his small home. It felt just a little more comfortable, having that kind of privacy.

As he had promised, Grimmer took the time to show Tenma around; to the vegetable gardens, far along the stream, and to the little “village” at the center of the Glade. It was an impressive network, as much as it could be; they had transformed the forest itself into a livable space for humans, with modest little homes scattered about. They were no stone mansions, but the shelters they had built were sturdy and protected them from the elements. 

Tenma came to understand the nature of how the makeshift family operated. There was more organization than he might have assumed; they kept careful inventory of assets they had…’acquired’. Anything they couldn’t produce for themselves using nature’s own bounty was kept track of, and necessities replenished by small scavenging operations. 

Grimmer made no excuses for them; it was plain theft. But, there was a difference; the motive was hardly villainous; they acted instead toward survival and sustained livelihood. Stealing warm clothes for the cold seasons, medicine for the sick...they were driven not by greed, but desperation. 

There were, though, exceptions; that man Grimmer had called Heckel was known to take for pleasure. Tenma kept judgement to himself; humans weren’t bound by the same set of rules as he was, and so as long as the man never tried to engage him in those exploits, Tenma had no reason to complain. 

He found a certain comfort in tending the vegetable gardens. It allowed him just a little privacy when he needed it, and it felt good to contribute in some way. It was the least he could do in return for the shelter they awarded him. It was better for him to be out in the sun, in the light, after so long. He felt better than before, able to do more without succumbing to exhaustion.

But as much as his body was starting to recover...as much as he found it easier to coexist with humans, and he felt healthier, his wings…

That sharp pain he’d felt, when Grimmer caught him the first time...that had been more than a muscle spasm. More than his body crying out from overexertion. He hadn’t known what it was at first, but as the days went by, as those pangs continued, he knew.

Tenma found reasons to excuse himself - going for a walk, speaking with the birds, checking the gardens for the third time in a day. Grimmer never questioned it, simply allowed him to take his time alone. The man seemed a little suspicious, but all the same he never asked. He had made it clear before - that it wasn’t his place to pry, that Tenma had the right to his privacy. And for something like _this…_

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Grimmer. Truthfully Grimmer was the only person that he _did_ trust, at least to any meaningful degree. But talking...about _there_ , about what happened, about what _was_ happening...was incredibly personal. It wasn't something that he could just _talk_ about.

So, Tenma faced his burden alone, biting down on increasing increments of pain that burned through his wings. Shooting pangs would come suddenly, but he’d learned to recognize when it was about to happen. It was almost always preceded by a foggy sense of lethargy, and gave him time to excuse himself before he could be seen. Sometimes it wasn’t so bad - just a brief spike that he could brush off as a startled shudder. On average it lasted a half-minute; too long for him to excuse it as some sort of spasm. 

Over time, he wasn’t _healing._ He wasn’t recovering. His wings were only getting worse. The frequency of that pain, the heaviness, the gradual darkening of his feathers...even their weight. His wings felt heavier, harder to lift. And the implications of those things together... _that_ was what Tenma feared most.

The angel had allowed himself to hold hope, after his rescue. Grimmer had said it himself - his feathers had hardly been contaminated; only a sparing few had begun to blacken. He had hoped that it could be reversed - that as _he_ healed, so too would his spirit, and his wings would return to their pure white.

But it was only getting worse.

It was getting worse, and that...that meant he was really going to fall.

Lord Heinemann had already won. And for that he was ashamed.

Crouched amidst the flowers, Tenma could only take a bittersweet comfort in their presence. Even the delicate brush of the breeze against his skin, caressing him warmly, felt numb. It was almost a cruel irony; he was so close to freedom, had been given a second chance, but he...in the end, he had been too weak. His will just hadn’t been strong enough. He was free...but he was sick. Sick in a way that he didn’t know he could recover.

If he fell, what would happen? To lose his wings...to lose a _piece_ of himself, the very magic that defined him, the world that he was born to…

It terrified him. The idea of losing his wings...was terrifying. But that was for him to face, and him alone. He wasn’t ready to give up yet. He _couldn’t._ But he was running out of time.

Hazy thoughts were briefly interrupted by the sudden sound of snapping twigs, immediately followed by a small gasp and frantic rustling. As Tenma looked up, it was to see a boy - perhaps ten, perhaps older - crouched nearby with his eyes shut, his head turned away. His face was a light, nervous shade of pink. 

“Um, I’m sorry!” came his equally nervousvoice. “I didn’t know you were there!”

Tenma relaxed, managing a weary, soft smile. The boy had startled him, but in turn it seemed that he had startled the boy. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to find Tenma here. The boys had been heeding Grimmer’s word, just as he’d said; they kept their distance so long as they knew where to expect him. This boy had been caught unawares. Tenma shook his head, sitting forward and then slowly standing.

“It’s all right. You’re not bothering me at all.”

It was perhaps for the better that the boy distracted him from those unpleasant thoughts. Heaven knew Tenma was only hurting himself, lost in that unpleasant frame of mind. The boy seemed to relax, the furrow of his brow softening as his shoulders released some of the tension that had been held. His eyes remained closed for now, though he tilted his head toward Tenma.

“Is, um, it okay….” The voice came a little softer, almost a little shy. “For me to look?”

That took Tenma a little by surprise. He wondered just what Grimmer had said to the boys, that this one seemed to feel he wasn’t allowed so much as to look at the angel. Though, he supposed that it could be a self-imposed precaution. 

“You may.”

Bright eyes opened slowly and the boy looked up, taking in the angel before him. His eyes moved slowly, absorbing the brilliant white of Tenma’s wings, folded though they were. His gaze didn’t linger long, as he looked up to the angel’s face with just as much awe. After a moment a shy, small smile brightened his face. 

“You’re really beautiful. Nothing like Heckel’s picture at all.” 

Tenma’s brow rose in mild surprise. Not at being called _beautiful_ \- after all, there was a certain ethereal beauty to all angels. But now, this “picture”...he had to wonder what artistic talent the thief carried. He tilted his head, smiling just a little.

“What does the picture look like?”

The child itched the side of his head, turning his gaze skyward for a moment as he thought. 

“Not that good? It's sort of….”

He touched a place on his jaw - just at the edge, a little below his ear. He drew a long, angled shape down to about his collarbone that tapered into a point, then back up to the other side of his face. 

“That’s your chin. In the picture. And your wings are like…”

The boy scrunched his face, then started drawing in the air - little circular motions that Tenma had a harder time visualizing, but likened to a flower. He worried what the boys must imagine him to look like if _that_ was the image they were presented with. A man with puffy wings and a long pointy chin...that was quite the alarming image. Still, he felt a chuckle bubble up from his throat - a short, small sound. The boy followed suit. This sort of thing...something small and silly...he needed something like that, now. Something silly to take his mind away from the inevitability of his future. 

The boy reached an arm up to wipe his brow, and that was when Tenma noticed the dark red stain against his sleeve. He remembered Grimmer mentioning something...that one of the boys had received quite a terrible gash when the bandits had come. If the wound was still open, even now, it was probably deeper than they thought.

“What happened to your arm?”

He kept his question unassuming. The boy paused, then glanced toward the reddish stain and he made a face.

“It's from before. When the bandits attacked I got sort of hurt.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’ll get better.”

He didn’t seem particularly bothered by it, but Tenma…

It had been a while, since he’d used his powers at all. Turning his healing outward, using it on another individual...it was something he could do without much effort, in the past. He knew that he should probably wait before trying to invoke that kind of power - heal himself before trying to heal others - but the concept of leaving the child in pain, _knowing_ that he could help...

Tenma reached out toward the boy, keeping a warmer look on his face. “May I see it?”

He seemed reluctant, his eyes narrowing for a moment. In the end, the boys here were probably just as wary and suspicious as Tenma himself was. Exposing a wound to someone he barely knew was something that seemed to irk the boy. After a moment, though, he reached out, pushing back his sleeve. Tenma brushed his fingers over the wound. It didn’t seem to be infected, but it was definitely going to take a while to heal on its own.

“Close your eyes, please. Just for a second.”

The boy looked up questioningly, but did as he was asked. There was a warm tingle as Tenma passed his hand over the wound a second time. He reached into the flow of his energies, drawing it out and pouring it into healing the wound. The flesh slowly knit itself together, a slight numbness spreading in the angel’s arm. Only after a few moments did he cease the flow of magic, the boy’s arm mended in full. He took a deep breath, letting it out in a satisfied sigh.

“There, all better. You can open your eyes now.”

The lad did as he was asked, his eyes widening as he stared at his freshly healed arm. He looked up at Tenma, his face practically aglow with a delighted kind of enthusiasm.

“That’s really amazing!” he breathed, incredulous, excited, but still politely quiet. “You’re really amazing.”

Tenma smiled, relaxing backward as feeling started to return to his arm. "You're not in any pain now, are you?"

The boy shook his head quickly, though the warm energy only lasted a moment. His face went from blissful and excited to something almost sad as he looked at the angel. 

“Are _you_ hurting?”

Tenma was a little taken aback, though the question itself was...sweet. He just wasn’t expecting something like that from a child. Tenma didn’t _look_ like he was in pain - or at least, he hoped not - so the question seemed odd. He couldn’t lie to the boy, but he didn’t think it would be wise to reveal the whole truth to someone so young, either.

“I am.” he answered simply, his tone careful. “Sometimes it feels better, sometimes it feels worse. But I think that’s just part of healing.”

The boy clasped his hands together, nodding slowly, looking down.

“Grimmer told us about what happened. It’s why he wanted us to leave you alone. You...you...I um...”

His voice was coming out lower, softer, almost a little vulnerable. The boy had started wringing his hands. 

“I sort of get it.” He started, quieter this time. “My uncle...I lived with my uncle. He hurt me a lot, and I didn’t feel safe at home, but I had to pretend because there was nowhere else to go. Everyone just thought I was really clumsy and fell a lot. I wasn’t allowed to talk about it, so no one knew. Sometimes it was really bad, if he was mad. And I was just kind of stuck. So I know…” The boy’s hands squeezed together with a sharp tension, eyes rising to meet Tenma’s. “I know what it’s like.”

Tenma felt his heart plummet, sinking down into his feet. It wasn’t terribly uncommon for humans to abuse one another, he knew that. But someone so young...for a _child_ to understand those feelings, to share something so awful in common with him…

“Mr. Heckel was the one who helped me to escape, and brought me with him. It was kind of scary at first...being here I mean. I was really scared to be around people too. But they’re really nice, and helped me get better. You’ll get better too.”

Such genuine reassurances...the boy was too young to know _what_ to do to help Tenma, so he offered the only thing that he could: hopeful stories to move the heart. Tenma looked the boy over with a sad sort of fondness, managing a small smile.

“What’s your name?”

Green eyes flicked up to meet his, almost a little hesitant. “D…” He paused, swallowing. “Dieter.”

Tenma reached out, touching the boy’s shoulder and giving a small, tentative squeeze.

“I’m sorry that you had to experience something so horrible, Dieter. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, especially not someone so young. It’s very brave of you to tell me. It’s hard for people to be honest about this sort of thing.”

Dieter looked away with a small smile and a flush at his cheeks. “Talking…” he started, pressing his lips together, looking down at the grass for a moment. “Helps. It helps a lot.”

It seemed like understandable advice - discussing his experiences with another person...helped the boy come to terms with what he endured, and allowed the others around him to help the healing process. He wasn’t sure, but it felt as though Dieter was trying to make that suggestion - that Tenma should do the same. But that was something Tenma...wasn’t sure he was ready for. It was incredibly personal, something he felt he had to face himself. Grimmer bore the burdens of the family he had gathered here; to add his own, when the man had done so much for him already, felt terribly inconsiderate and selfish.

Tenma lowered his head, nodding somberly. “I’m glad that you were able to recover. You seem like a very strong boy. And…” Tenma smiled, getting back up to his feet swiftly. “Thank you, for your confidence. I’m s...I...I'm s...sure...”

As he stood, Tenma realized something...wasn’t right. All at once he felt unsteady, almost nauseous. That….healing the boy’s arm...it wouldn’t have left him with any sort of fatigue under normal circumstances, but in an already sickly state, he should have known better than to try. He felt his lips moving, but wasn’t quite sure if he was making any sound. His head was rushing, his ears only catching vague noises as sound faded in and out. Vaguely he knew he was trying to walk, but suddenly, the ground was coming up to meet him.

_”Tenma? T…..Tenma?”_

* * *

Any of the boys running about wasn’t an unusual sight. They were young and energetic, often found cavorting about in the trees and the fields when a burst of energy hit them. However, there was a certain difference between such energy at play and in trouble. 

As Grimmer observed Dieter in his mad forward dash, he noted the surest of signs this was the latter; a purposeful, straight-forward gait, the intensity of his expression, and that he ran _directly_ to Grimmer.

Nothing seemed to be _wrong_ \- there were no unusual disturbances within the woods, no signs of a threat. It was possible one of the boys had eaten something poisonous, if they were playing by the hills again…

He crouched down to the boy’s height, squatting low on his heels as Dieter stumbled up close. He reached out with a hand, catching the boy as he halfway fell into the taller man, his frantic energy pushing his balance off kilter. The boy steadied himself, taking rushed breaths. Grimmer kept his own expression calm and neutral.

“I need you to breathe slowly for me,” he soothed, using one hand to comb fingers through the boy’s hair gently. “Catch your breath and tell me what’s wrong. It won’t do much good if I don’t know what you’re saying. So, take a deep breath in…”

Grimmer started breathing in himself, giving the boy a cue - something to follow. Dieter did as he was prompted, taking a long, slow breath, letting it out just as slowly while Grimmer did the same. They did it once more, allowing the boy a moment to collect his thoughts, before Grimmer finally released him, patting his shoulder.

“All right. What’s the matter?”

Dieter pressed his lips together and he looked away.

“I was...I went to the fields...and I saw Tenma there. Not on purpose, but he was okay with it...we talked a bit…he made my arm better, and then...”

His voice had quickened, the tone a little more worried. Grimmer squeezed the boy’s shoulder, offering what encouragement he could. Big green eyes stared at him with a lost look.

“I don’t know what happened but...when he got up he sounded really tired. He was having trouble walking straight and then he fell. I think...something’s wrong. He seemed fine, but then just collapsed...I didn't know what to do.”

Dieter’s honest admission was a little bit sad. Grimmer pulled the boy in, drawing his palm in little circles along his back as he thought. It was possible that Tenma was feeling faint. But what Dieter said…”made my arm better”...it sounded more like the angel had done something - used some unusual ability of his. Grimmer didn’t know how an angel’s abilities worked - or what they were, exactly - but it was possible that he had exhausted himself trying to do something he simply wasn't ready for yet.

Grimmer stood up slowly, keeping a relative calm confidence about himself. He didn’t want to frighten Dieter; right now, he needed to behave as though he had everything under control. He really didn’t know what the situation was, but he had to act with absolute certainty. 

“I’m going to fetch some water for him. Can you show me where he is?” 

Dieter nodded, giving him a bit of time to find a flask. Grimmer took them by the stream; if Dieter had come from the fields, it would only be a small detour. He took a moment to splash his own face with water, filling the flask and waiting for Dieter to take them the rest of the way.

Sure enough, they came across the field of daisies, and the poplar trees just beyond. Lying in the grass near the trees was Tenma, unconscious and sprawled awkwardly on his side. From this point...it was probably best for Grimmer to handle things himself. Dieter might have had a good talk with the angel, but waking suddenly to two humans would probably be just a little unsettling. Grimmer stopped a short ways away, turning toward Dieter.

“I’m not sure what the situation is, but for the moment, I’d like you to keep an ear out and make sure no one comes through here. Can you do that?”

Dieter didn’t bother answering, and rushed off dutifully toward the trees, where he could give himself the best vantage point to keep an eye open, in case the other boys came by. Satisfied, Grimmer closed the distance between himself and Tenma, crouching down by the angel’s side. 

The man looked pale - not as terrible as he had that first day, but the colour certainly seemed to have drained from his face. Grimmer reached out slowly and touched Tenma's forehead. His temperature seemed normal, if just a little warm, though from what he understood that was normal for the man. When he felt the angel tense, though, he pulled his hand away.

Tenma had turned his head and was muttering something to himself, his voice soft, but distressed. He seemed restless, a few tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. There was a chance that he was vaguely aware of Grimmer’s presence and, in his unconscious state, interpreted it as some sort of threat. Grimmer felt his chest squeeze in sympathy. Even now, terrors plagued his mind at rest. Grimmer made to gently nudge the angel’s shoulder, to perhaps rouse him, but stopped abruptly, the air catching in his throat.

His eyes had wandered just a moment to Tenma’s wings. Sprawled as he was, Grimmer could easily see the darker shade of his feathers. It had spread further, visible on the underside of the wings. Grimmer would never have seen it, with how cautious the angel was about keeping his wings to himself. But if this was what they looked like…

Grimmer took a deep breath, feeling a new weight settle in the pit of his stomach. He brushed strands of hair from Tenma’s face, shaking his head.

“You’ve been suffering, haven’t you…”

Almost two weeks had gone by. The inky dark shade of Tenma’s feathers should have started to recede, but instead they were turning darker. Grimmer didn’t know what that meant, _why_ it was they were getting worse. If there was something...if something was affecting him here in the Glade, and he was trying to keep that to himself…

Those were questions he would have to ask the angel later. Right now...in the state he was...Grimmer couldn’t in good conscience leave Tenma like this. He would have to be careful; rousing the man without frightening him...that would probably be difficult. But he needed to get through to the angel. He needed to try.

* * *

Tenma was too weak to escape.

The Glade had held promise, but it was too good to be true; he should have known that even a place like this had no hope to shelter an angel, not from a tyrant beholden to terrible power. They had come when he was alone - somehow they knew how to find him. Weakened and flightless, there was nothing he could do; he ran, he begged his wings to lift him from the ground, and for a few moments, they did. He rose, slowly, the heaviness of his wings felt with each stroke, but he was airborne.

It wasn’t enough.

Too slow to flee, his shoulder was pierced by something sharp, and Tenma could feel himself falling. He was falling...and someone was shouting. Voices. Then hands. Then he couldn’t move at all, pinned by weight from above. Breathing. Voices. Hands. Loud, gripping, painful. 

_”Got ourselves a wounded bird!”_ one of the voices crowed, directly above him. Tenma squirmed, trying to push himself up, to throw the weight from him, but it only pressed in harder, a knee driving sharply into his spine. His limbs felt heavy, inexplicably unable to move. He tried to shout, but all that came out was a small wheeze of air, barely audible even to him.

_”Let’s put you back where you belong.”_

A suffocating shadow enveloped him. He saw nothing, isolated in an empty void. Then, his senses started to return, alerting him to his surroundings. Chill damp air and darkness. A familiar smell. Tenma...was back _there_ again, caged by Heine’s elite. Or perhaps he never really left. Inspecting fingers drew through his feathers, a sickly feeling that rattled the angel’s nerves and turned them to ice. There was a satisfied hum from somewhere behind him.

_"Just look at that. How dark they are."_

Tenma's stomach twisted in knots. His body felt weighted, unwilling to respond when he begged it to. His wings felt heavier and heavier, like they didn’t belong there. He heard a soft chuckle, felt something sharp against his skin.

_”It won’t be long now.”_

In the dark, he couldn’t move, couldn’t see. But he could hear, he could feel. Something cold...something prickling….burning, shaking, everything….fogged, tired, heavy...weightless but so, so heavy. _Too_ heavy. Pulling down, down. Tearing. Sinking...falling. Fall...

_Tenma._

Through the fog, over the hissing of the menace above him, _that_ voice was clear. Clearer than anything else. It spoke his name, one single word. But that one word carried something with it. There was _feeling_ in that voice. Something that whispered so softly in his ears he could weep.

_You’re all right. It’s all right. Tenma..._

He felt something brush his forehead, but this….the feeling was different from before. It wasn’t hostile or intrusive, but a touch that felt hesitant, careful. Something that didn't _belong_ in this scene. A touch that stirred his conscious mind.

_It’s not real. You’re okay, Tenma. Just breathe, just like that…_

Everything was fading in and out. Half-words spoken by phantoms, false sensations of prickling from his own raw nerves. The feeling of something soft beneath him, sounds...birds, a voice, warmth and light...

Tenma jolted upright, heart racing, breath coming in short gasps. Though he couldn’t quite see through his bleary eyes, he could hear, and smell, and feel just fine. That strange feeling of weight was gone, the cold and the dark...it had all been something his mind had put there. It wasn’t real.

“Take it easy, now. You were dreaming. It was a dream.” 

A voice sounded softly at his side. Close. Grimmer...Grimmer was beside him, holding him steady with just the barest of touches. That feeling...his had been the hands that reached Tenma, even in that place, in that dream. 

It was just a dream. Just...

Hesitant brushes of fingers against his arm helped to ease the angel as he gathered his wits. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, allowing himself to absorb the familiarity of his surroundings. None of that...none of what had happened then was real. He was still in the Glade. Still safe. His wings...

Tenma swallowed, taking a second shaky breath. He felt just a little steadier, but his mind was still frazzled. He clapped a hand over his mouth as he rode out the rest of his anxious energy, swallowing the sickly feeling that had bubbled up into his throat. He could feel Grimmer watching him; he didn’t have to turn to know those deep blue eyes were trained on him as he slowly calmed. Tenma closed his eyes, managing to swallow down the acidic taste that had threatened to come forward. After a moment, he felt just a little better, steady enough at least to address the man.

“I’m all right now. Just...give me a minute.”

Against those ghosting images that flashed behind his eyelids and the feeling of things that weren’t there, the sincere brush of Grimmer’s fingers was grounding. Something that was in front of him, a human who wouldn’t hurt him. Grimmer gave a slow nod, those deep blue eyes trying to reach his, though Tenma kept his gaze down, at least for now. It was easier to concentrate that way, to dispel the fleeting remnants of that dream.

It didn’t take long for Tenma to collect himself, finally sitting up straight again, away from the other man. Grimmer moved away and handed Tenma a flask which he took gladly, downing a gulp of cool, refreshing water. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of movement, his head jerking, body tensing briefly only to relax at the sight of a familiar young boy. Dieter had come from the treeline, but halted with a gesture from Grimmer, and just stood there, looking on with sad, worried eyes.

“He came to fetch me when you collapsed.”

Grimmer’s voice was softly-spoken, though something felt just a little weary in those words. Tenma paid it little mind, trying to piece together how he ended up like this. In the moment it was just a little blurry. What had happened...he had healed Dieter’s arm, stood up...tried to leave...and that was when everything started to fog in his mind. No doubt he had scared the boy. Tenma let his hands relax in his lap, nodding toward Dieter with a tired, but serene expression.

“Thank you. That must have been a big surprise. I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

The boy shook his head, eyes growing wider still with that same concerned look that Grimmer sometimes gave him. “No, no I’m….um...” He trailed off, swallowing thickly. His gaze fell almost guiltily. “Are you okay?”

The way he asked was almost heartbreaking. All of this had happened shortly after the angel had healed his arm; the poor boy...probably felt somehow responsible. Tenma managed to brighten his face into a small smile, nodding. He reached out with his free hand and patted the boy’s shoulder. “Just a little winded. I’m all right now.”

Dieter nodded, seemingly satisfied by the response. He caught the faintest sound of a soft grunt from Grimmer, something that Tenma didn’t quite catch. The man stood, brushing dirt from his pants and stretching.

“Now might be a good time to get back and get you something good and solid to eat. That’s usually the trick for this sort of thing.” He turned a warmer look on Tenma then, one that felt comforting and bright. “And make sure you drink all of that too. I have a feeling you might be a bit dehydrated.”

Tenma nodded, watching as Grimmer reached a hand out toward him. He’d been unsure before, but now he accepted that outstretched hand without much hesitation. Tenma allowed the man to help him to his feet, letting go once he was sure of his footing. With a sharp little nod, he allowed Grimmer to lead the way back.

* * *

Grimmer had never seen what Tenma's nightmares looked like. It had been more than a little jarring, to see him like that. In such a state of distress...

The idea that there were people in the world who would so willingly put another living being through so much agony that their dreams rattled them with such a deep terror was truly sickening. There wasn't any single thing that could be worth that.

Tenma managed to recover from it swiftly enough once he woke, but there had been such a sense of urgency...such intense feelings, and all Grimmer could do was offer his presence as a comfort.

What worried him most, though, was the angel's wings. The way his feathers darkened further was a sign not of healing, but of the wound deepening. Tenma...had been keeping that to himself. Grimmer couldn't quite blame him; issues of an angel's wings were something he had always imagined to be particularly private and personal. But to see them like that...

Something was causing it. And that...he would have to ask Tenma. As much as the angel might wish for privacy...if something was happening to him in the Glade...it became an issue of the _keeper_ of the Glade.

Dieter saw himself off along the way; no doubt even he could feel the morose atmosphere that followed the two adults. He knew what talks involved children, and the ones he was best left out of. He had cast a look at Tenma before he left - one that seemed to say something, though Grimmer couldn't know what. Now left just to the two of them, the heaviness of the atmosphere only amplified, both men strongly aware of the conversation that was to come.

It was Tenma, in the end, who broached the topic.

He took a seat in the grass, his knees up and hands clasped neatly between them. Grimmer followed suit, giving the angel a respectable berth, should he need his space. He didn't turn to look at Grimmer, his face forward as he looked toward the sun with those brilliant gold eyes.

"You really caught me at my worst just now. I can't imagine it was particularly sightly." 

Grimmer shook his head, his usual quippy responses nowhere to be seen. There wasn't any fun to be had in making light of that kind of raw and genuine pain.

"I've never seen someone dream quite like that before."

His voice was solemn. Tenma still didn't turn, but his expression turned just a little colder, a little tired. 

"It's the first time it went that far. I usually...wake sooner." He looked at his hands, closing his eyes. "I think it's because I...did something I wasn't ready for. I left myself vulnerable."

At the very least, Grimmer was glad that this was an anomaly. All the same, the notion that this was a normal occurrence for him...Grimmer knew it, of course, but hearing him say so was just a little saddening.

There was yet another silence then, though the atmosphere was still as dense as before. This time, Tenma stayed silent; it seemed that Grimmer would have to take the initiative this time. After a moment, he turned to face the angel.

"I saw your wings." he started, his voice low. "When I was trying to wake you."

Tenma drew a breath in sharply through his nose, balling his hands into light fists, his shoulders wilting just a little, wings pulling tighter against his back. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, staring forward. Grimmer thought for a moment, nodding back toward the cabin.

“Would you like to take this inside?”

Tenma stayed silent for a moment, then nodded slowly, a mild look of uncertainty crossing his face. He was doing that thing again, introverting into himself. This...was something that was going to be hard for him.

He led them back to the cabin, putting some tea on as the angel seated himself. He had that gloom about him again, wary and a bit sad. Grimmer brought their tea to the small table, setting it down in front of himself and Tenma. He leveled the angel with a severe look.

“Before we start, I’d just like to let you know that we can stop at any time. This conversation isn't something I'm holding you to. I understand that this isn't going to be easy.” 

Tenma seemed to relax a little on hearing that, nodding in acknowledgement. He picked up his tea, holding it to his lips, taking in the sweet aroma and allowing it to soothe him just a little more. With a slow sip, he set it down, looking up to try to catch Grimmer’s gaze. He gave a nod, inviting Grimmer to speak. The man sighed, sitting back in his seat as he regarded the angel.

"I don’t really know how all of this works. But if your wings are getting worse..." Grimmer paused, breathing slowly. "Has it been causing you any pain?"

Tenma was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“It comes and goes. I’ve been trying to keep it to myself.”

Grimmer closed his eyes, rubbing his temples with a whispered curse under his breath. At least if he’d known, there was a chance that they could give him something medicinal for the pain, or a numbing agent...something to grant just a bit of relief. He had to wonder just how long it had been like this. How long he had been enduring this pain.

“And right now...?”

Tenma was quick to shake his head no. “Not when I'm like this. It’s worse when I’m moving around.”

That was something, at least. Grimmer closed his eyes, looking over the angel wearily. He was still clearly uncomfortable, still dealing with something internally though Grimmer didn't dare pry.

Tenma brought his tea to his lips, taking what little comfort he could in the welcoming aroma and the warmth that he cradled in his hands. He was bearing his burden as best as he could, with far more grace than Grimmer might have anticipated. To endure such thorough suffering, and yet carry himself with the dignity he did...Tenma was fighting hard not to be dragged into despair. Grimmer leaned forward, a mild urgency in the look he gave the angel.

"I understand that this is a private matter for you. As I said before, you...don't have to answer me. But Tenma..."

He moved to reach forward, then hesitated, his hand twitching just a little as he chose instead to pull it back, clasping both neatly in his lap. The gesture hadn't gone unnoticed. 

"If something is happening to you in the Glade...if there's something _causing_ this...I need to know, so that I can help you. This place is your home now, no less than any other resident. If something is hurting you..."

Tenma's eyes flicked up, and slowly, he set his tea down. There was something resigned in the look he had, as he turned his gaze away, shaking his head with just the barest of movements.

"No. It's nothing here. Nothing that you..."

Tenma trailed off, then wilted forward slightly, staring into his drink with those sad, somber eyes.

“They did everything they could to wear me down. By the end...I started to break. I...accepted what was going to happen. And that’s why...” He swallowed thickly, balling a fist. “That’s why they’re not healing. Because I’d stopped fighting. I...stopped hoping.”

He sounded oddly accepting, despite what he’d just declared. But the way he sat staring at nothing, his shoulders heavy with burden, refusing to so much as look at Grimmer...there was something almost ashamed in his admittance. As if it was somehow his own fault. And for Grimmer…

Those words gnawed at him, too. Gnawed at him because if he had known sooner...if Becker had only felt that change of heart before...then perhaps Tenma wouldn’t be in such a state. He might have reached that hand out before hope faded from his heart, even just a flicker of a spark kept alive. 

Grimmer...didn’t know if an angel’s wings could recover. He had hoped that because the damage was minimal, he might be able to heal with time. That could yet be true, but the fact was that the darkness had spread. There was no doubt in his mind that Tenma’s nightmares...that those awful dreams did nothing to help his condition. Grimmer felt terribly inadequate, helpless to know how he might help this man. Watching someone who was ill only grow sicker was a painful thing. But he wanted to believe in Tenma. He wanted to believe that the angel would recover. He took a deep breath, looking toward the angel, though Tenma didn’t look up to meet him.

“I don’t know how long you were there. Or what happened to you. But the fact is...for everything that you endured, you _weren't_ broken. You won. You didn’t fall, despite everything they put you through. And if you can endure so much...all of that by yourself...I believe that the strength is there for you to heal.”

The look Tenma gave him was tired...incredibly tired, but appreciative. He shook his head.

“I’m not quite sure I’d call that winning. I'd accepted my fate. I’m only here now because of you and your people.” 

Grimmer thought for a moment, leaning back as he regarded the melancholic angel. With that sort of thinking...

“I think that might be the problem.”

Tenma blinked at him, waiting for Grimmer to continue. The man reached up, itching his neck.

“Well, to be honest, you were rendered effectively inert when you were imprisoned there, weren’t you? That would mean you couldn’t be expected to stage your own escape. If you _had,_ I’m really not sure what I could call you other than miraculous, and perhaps a little terrifying. Instead, your rescue was a little more realistic. Someone on the outside helped you to escape. And because you had _help…_ you think that it doesn’t count.”

Tenma opened his mouth, then closed it again when Grimmer raised a hand, letting him know he wasn’t quite finished yet. 

“It’s natural for people to want to help each other. You were suffering, and someone chose to help you. The boys who fled Heine...they found help from myself and Heckel. It’s because of each other that we were able to endure our own suffering and begin to heal. So Tenma, that means you…”

He paused, his expression softening.

“Sometimes...we need other people in order to succeed. I wouldn’t be where I am, if I didn’t have help. Even now…you’re bearing all this weight by yourself. But you don’t have to do it alone. I… _we…_ will help you. The same way we helped each other.”

Tenma absorbed his small dialogue slowly, seemingly caught a bit off guard. Until now, that was probably just how he had lived; using his own means, relying on himself and no one else. The concept of having help...was probably something that was pushed so far away from his mind that the notion he might sometimes _need_ it never crossed his mind. Not like this. In this situation...he simply couldn’t have succeeded on his own means, which to Tenma was akin to failing outright. The angel shook his head, closing his eyes.

“It just feels like I’ve betrayed myself." he murmured lowly. "I fought for months. I wouldn’t give them an inch, no matter what it cost me. And then at the very end…”

He looked up, those marvelous gold hues just a little more lifelike, if still exhausted.

“I know what it is that you’re saying. But I still...let myself down.”

That was something...that was definitely something that Grimmer could understand. He had been there, long ago. Back then, he hadn’t tried to fight his fate. He had been scared - afraid of dying, of the consequences he would face if he tried. So instead, he ran. But he...at the time, he was only a boy, barely a man himself. The idea of fighting the system was attractive...one that appealed, but now, he knew...at that time, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. There were some things that a person...couldn’t always do by himself. 

Grimmer reached out, more sure of his actions now than before. There was no tension or uncertainty when he took the angel’s hand, giving it a firm little squeeze.

“The thing about that...about being down...is that you’ve hit the ground. You can stand up again. You might stumble, but you have the strength to stand. And there are people to catch you and keep you from sinking deeper.” 

Grimmer’s other hand joined the first, holding Tenma’s carefully between both as he looked the man in the eye.

“You _will_ fly again. You will.”

Tenma looked down to Grimmer’s hands for a moment, and he felt the slightest grip from the angel as his fingers curled inward, lightly pressing against the back of his hand. 

“I think...right now I’m just not in a good place. It's hard to believe that." His eyes flicked up, guarded and difficult to read. "But if you can be this confident, if you’re so _sure,_ that’s...going to help me a lot.”

He pulled his hand free, and Grimmer released it. Tenma...did look a little better now, a little warmer. If his confidence could be infectious...then Grimmer would do everything he could to keep that mindset. It was normal for Tenma not to have that belief in himself just yet. Grimmer would offer him the encouragement he needed.

* * *

Venturing back into the Glade wasn’t something that Becker had anticipated awaited him in the future. When he resolved to help the angel, he had assumed his work would be done that very night; he was passed into the hands of the outcasts, and from there...the knight hadn’t thought much of what would happen then. He would be free again, but what next? 

If Lord Heinemann had his way, that freedom was going to be cut short. At the very least, Becker had to warn them.

He trudged through the thick underbrush, using only the moon to guide him in the dark. The trees were as tall and menacing as last time, the wind as eerie through the branches. And when he heard the snap of twigs, he knew he’d found his way.

Ordinarily Becker wasn’t the type to be so motivated...he had been given his every worldly opportunity without having to fight for it, and had led a peacefully lazy lifestyle that had translated just as well into his operational efficiency. To him, it had all been about easy profit; the angel’s capture would earn him handsome figures, plenty to indulge in expensive tastes. It could have been that simple. If he only hadn’t volunteered to maintain watch over the angel’s keep during that time…

Lazy though he was, the despair he saw in those eyes day to day had inspired conviction. For once there was _something_ that Becker felt strongly toward. And that something was in jeopardy. It was almost ironic that the very angel he had hunted would be the one thing to motivate him out of his lethargy.

Becker raised both hands, stopping in his tracks. He could feel them watching him, just as last time. They weren’t exactly friendly; even if most of them were ankle-biting little brats, they knew how to use their surroundings to make themselves just a little scarier. And he knew from experience how they loved sharp projectiles.

“It’s….me again.”

He really wasn’t sure how well this would work. It probably wasn’t a good idea, but he had to make an attempt. At least if they threw him out he could say that he _tried._ If the angel got caught again, then it wouldn’t be his fault, and he did his part to warn them.

Becker could hear rustling, but no answer. Still, he knew better than to move. They were watching him from up there. He remembered their last encounter and already felt the hair at the back of his neck start to prickle. He swallowed, aware of how dry his throat felt.

“I...I have information for you. About...the hunt for the angel.” He paused, peering between the trees, looking for movement. “Will you hear me?”

There was more rustling, and then at once Becker found himself with something sharp pointed to his back. He could feel it, just barely, pressing into his spine. He shuddered, but stayed completely still. Now, finally, he could see movement in the dark. There they were, the lot of them.

“Turn around slowly, and face me. Let’s see your face.”

He did as he was asked, taking slow breaths as he waddled his feet slowly, slowly, turning round to face the master of the Glade. Shadowed under a hood, Becker could observe no emotion on the man. He’d hoped that his last visit might have softened the forest dwellers, but they seemed no less swift to pull a dagger to him. But, once he’d turned, the man gave a slow nod, sheathing his weapon and lowering the hood.

“Two visits into my humble home. Have you missed me that much?”

Becker set his jaw, glancing down. He wasn’t particularly fond of the fun the miscreants had at his expense, but it was preferable to the dagger. He rubbed his face with the back of his hand.

“I came to deliver a warning, that’s all.” he blurted, doing his best to maintain a calm, unlike last time. “There’s someone dangerous that you should know about. He’s the reason we managed to capture the angel in the first place.”

Grimmer looked him over with a mildly unsettling expression, but Becker forced himself to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he gestured forward.

“I have a feeling that this won’t be a quick chat. Let’s take this someplace a little more private, then.” He smirked, quirking a brow at the defamed soldier. 

“I hope you’re not afraid of the woods at night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> URGH this chapter was a heavy hitter....it still wound up being enormous even when I split it lol. I was a little unsure if I wanted to include the nightmare scene but since we won't really be seeing any of what happened to Tenma I went for the next best (worst?) thing, so we can still get a bit of that perspective.
> 
> This fic was supposed to be 5 chapters and yet currently it's slated for like 4 more.....oops


	8. Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter delves a bit into some of Tenma's past trauma again. No TWs really but there's a few mentions of torture and Tenma's health degrading

Becker really had no idea _where_ the band of outlaws was taking him. It occurred to him now, a bit late perhaps, just how wrong this could all go. Though he had helped them once before, he was still a soldier for Heine, and if they thought they could swindle any coin from him just to take a shot at the crown, there was a good chance they’d strip him for all he had. This was twice now he’d come poking around their territory and he couldn’t imagine they were any pleased about it, good intentions or not.

To their credit, they _didn’t_ toss him in some dark gulch and take all but his skin like common bandits; paranoia had once again gotten the better of him. It was the nature of Heine’s soldiers to second-guess men like Grimmer, with the tales of his villainous misdeeds spread so rampant.

Where he found himself now was...dark, like everything else at night, though darker still with the moon behind clouds. He could hear running water, though, so assumed they had to be near the stream that ran through Heine's border. All around was silent, spare the odd chirp of wild creatures. It was as warm a welcoming as he imagined he would get. 

“Let’s hear it then, shall we?” 

Grimmer’s voice was calm now, not the menace from earlier. There was no need for him to throw superiority around; not in his own territory. Becker wasn’t fool enough to challenge or insult the man here of all places. 

“Well, _Sir_ Becker?”

Sir....

Ah.

Becker grimaced. They wouldn’t know that he’d been relieved of that title. He cleared his throat, noting the sudden dryness of his mouth.

"...Not 'Sir'. Not now."

His voice came in a low mumble, a little sad, really. He didn't bother to look up, to meet the man's gaze. 

“After...after failing to successfully guard the angel…I had my title revoked. Until recompense can be paid, I carry no honourable title.” 

He was well enough aware that Grimmer had only been mocking him with the title, but all the same, he wanted the man to know; protecting the angel had its consequences, even on the Noble Guard.

There was a silent pause, and then a chuckle from the man. Clearly, Grimmer found a certain amusement in his situation - something that Becker found just a little offensive. It had been his fault, and yet he laughed about it with such ease.

“And here I had thought your men were immune to consequence! I suppose privilege only lasts so long as you remain useful, is that it?”

Becker refrained from making an argument. He knew well enough what Grimmer was talking about. There was a tendency for the law to turn a cheek where Heine's upper echelons were concerned. Under normal circumstances, Becker knew that his ineptitude and lethargy would have had him out of work long ago; the successful capture of an angel granted certain benefits. Benefits that, for his failure, were just as swiftly taken away. There was validity in the criticism from the master of the glade.

“So then, tell us your piece. What brings you back to us? Not another angel, I should hope?”

Becker took a slow breath in, organizing his thoughts. It was, at least, easier to talk to the man this time than the last.

“I...I believe Lord Heinemann may be planning to set a trap for the angel. Just like when we caught him in the first place.”

He still remembered how quickly and easily it had all happened. To shoot down an angel was a near impossibility, when its...when _his_ wings retained no damage from mundane weapons. Johan had been the one to provide the Noble Guard with magically imbued weapons, relying on the power of language alone. Words carried power, when utilized by weavers of magic.

The atmosphere shifted, now much more serious than before. If Grimmer hadn't been paying him much mind before, he was now.

“And how is it you're so sure? If you’re no longer ‘in the know’, so to speak.”

Becker squared his shoulders, trying to give off some amount of authority and confidence. 

“You were attacked by bandits.”

It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact. Grimmer quirked a brow, opening his mouth, but he stopped when Becker raised a hand. He was glad that, for once, the man was keeping quiet.

“There’s a lot of hearsay that Lord Heinemann hired them. I’m sure you’re aware of the bounty out for the angel; despite that, there hasn't been any word of the angel's capture. The Noble Guard has stayed idle, even though his location is relatively known. It's quite unusual, all things considered.”

Grimmer nodded slowly, visibly standing a little more upright, a little more alert. 

“That’s certainly been bothering me. The bandits have been easy to drive away. If they're searching for him, there certainly hasn't been much in the way of a _genuine_ attempt.”

There was a brief moment of silence as the man seemed to give some thought to it, the cogs turning in his mind, his face a little clearer now with the moon coming out from behind the clouds. He looked certainly bothered and stolid - not the face of confidence from before.

“It's possible that the bounty was a rumour, spread to make the situation seem more urgent and dangerous. The bandits could have another purpose entirely. And if the guard hasn't mobilized...”

Grimmer trailed off, turning a sharp look Becker's way, though there was no animosity there, not toward him at least. 

“It's known that we have limited resources and manpower. Throw enough cannon fodder and we might find ourselves exhausted. What an ideal time for Heine's elite to attack, well rested and armed to the teeth.”

Becker….wasn’t sure if _that_ was the reason, but it made sense. Whittling them down until they had nothing to defend with would leave the angel's line of defense too weak to protect him. He nodded his agreement.

“Lord Heinemann isn’t that subtle. I have a feeling this is coming from his chief advisor. I don’t know much about who he is, but he knows a lot about angels and magic. It was because of him we were able to capture the angel in the first place.”

There was a silence that followed. Grimmer inclined his head, leering down at the man.

"'Tell me all that you can. I need to know what we might expect."

He could feel something urgent in the man's voice. He really didn't want to take any chances. But Becker...only knew so much. Only what he had used to capture the angel in the beginning. It was all he needed to know, and so all that was shared. He balled a fist, taking a deep breath, trying to combat the sudden tightness in his chest.

"It's hard to say. He weaves magic...but I don't know enough to say what it is. He can somehow grant magical properties to... _things._ We used weapons imbued with that magic to..."

Becker paused, and then, more softly-

"to shoot him down."

It was something he wouldn't forget. In the moment he had been acting on behalf of his people, and his pride. But now...

"Fire...he also told us that fire can hurt them. Even mundane flame."

If the air had filled with tension before, what settled now in the cold night air was a damning sense of dread. He chanced a look at Grimmer, and this time...there was something definitely afraid in his eyes. Something distantly fearful, though Becker had to imagine there was more to it than fire. This place...in the woods, smoke and fire would thrive. And to set a place like this ablaze...it wouldn't just spell danger for the angel. This was their home; to have it burn was to be completely uprooted, to lose all they had. _That_ was the depth of fear in Grimmer's eyes.

"If he would go so far for the sake of an angel..."

Becker didn't answer the man's idle musing. He couldn't, really; he didn't know if it was true. The idea that Lord Heinemann would burn the glade to the ground was a little far-fetched. But all the same, it would only do harm to ignore it as a possibility. There was another short moment of foreboding silence, before Grimmer took the opportunity to speak.

“If that’s all, then, you should be on your way. Who knows what your people might do to you if you're found out.”

Becker visibly paled, but he didn’t turn away. Not just yet. He looked down, staring at his toes with great intensity for just a few moments before finally he raised his head again, a certain dread filling his eyes.

“I…” He paused, looking away. “I was wondering...how he’s doing.”

Grimmer’s expression fell from neutral complacency to something completely devoid of emotion, cold and despondent. Becker’s throat felt like it wanted to clench on itself. That _wasn’t_ a good look. If something had happened...

“You should ask _him_ that, don’t you think?”

Becker opened his mouth to make some quick comment - that he _would,_ if the angel was there, but it died on his tongue.

The angel _was_ there, hanging back, watching him with intense, gold eyes.

And Becker...didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know where to start.

He had used the angel. He had been a means to reap benefit; the clout that came with capturing such a rare creature, the honour and praise, the freedom to do as he pleased. He couldn't deny he was himself no less a villain than anyone else. He could only imagine how the angel would...feel about him. About seeing him now, after all he endured.

Playing guard to the captured angel came with more than a few benefits, not the first of which was just how easy it was. With the sedative under full effect, it wasn’t like the angel had any chance of breaking free, not when he could barely keep his head up. Even if he did get loose and somehow managed to escape his chains, there was no way he could outrun or overpower Becker. It was an easy job, and it kept him out of regular duties and let him just hang around and occasionally make sure the angel was still locked up.

It was ironic to think that it was laziness that got him into this mess. Laziness that got him to care. 

He had taken the job for its ease, but there was just something hard about it. About watching the angel slowly deteriorate. Becker had never thought about that; as the angel’s primary guard, he had the closest proximity to him. In the beginning he had been more curious than anything, but the angel had absolutely no interest in talking to him, so it was left to idle observation. He’d just watch the angel, and the angel would either ignore him outright or watch him right back. 

It wasn’t seeing him hurt that got to the guard. Becker was a soldier; pain was nothing new, and the angel healed rather quickly. For the suffering of one angel, Heine’s entire populace would live longer, better, healthier lives. The pain wasn't permanent, and others would prosper for it. It was a sacrifice he could easily accept.

What irked him, what made him truly uncomfortable, was watching the light slowly fade from the angel’s eyes.

He had found them incredibly fascinating - a brilliant shade of gold like that simply wasn’t seen on humans. And despite everything, they were always so _bright._ The angel had a certain fire in those eyes that Becker was incredibly charmed by.

Over time, that blazing light started to dim. There was just this atmosphere of exhaustion, until the angel wouldn’t even look up. And the few times he did, those once brilliant eyes seemed so...hollow. Lifeless. 

They weren’t frightened or miserable or angry, just...empty.

And yet Lord Heinemann still had his men come for the angel, taking him away to do only God knew what to him. He was returned with fresh wounds most days, though they healed as quickly as ever. Becker always made himself scarce when the angel was taken; he preferred not to know. He had thought that maintaining ignorance would be good enough to rid him of any guilt he might feel, but seeing the angel slowly whittled away, right down to the core…

An angel couldn't die, but it felt somehow as though he was watching it happen.

There was only so much of that he could take.

Seeing him now…

It wasn’t _contempt_ he saw in those eyes. They were wary, but not hateful. There...wasn’t much emotion for him to read at all. The way the angel was looking at him was guarded, intended to keep his emotions private. Becker was not allowed to see something so personal to the angel.

There was colour in his cheeks, in his eyes. He looked healthier, definitely. But all at once, Becker felt his throat start to close on itself, his palms slick, his chest tight.

This suddenly felt all wrong.

He swallowed, taking a slow, deep breath and letting it out. Becker bowed his head, aware of how unusually heavy it felt. 

“I…”

He blinked, and the hunt came in flashes behind his eyelids. The lure, the ambush, shooting him down, holding him still as that _thing_ was planted under his skin to keep him docile…

Eyes filled with fear. 

Fear he ignored. Fear every one of them turned a blind eye to, accepting the angel’s unwitting sacrifice in the name of their own people. Sacrifice that he had been happy to accept, never once affected by the consequences.

 _This_ was what those consequences looked like.

“I’m sorry.”

Becker’s hand clenched tightly into a fist. He forced himself to look up, toward the angel’s face. He _had_ to look him in the eye. And then again -

“I’m sorry.”

The angel said nothing. In the end, Becker couldn’t even be sure he was paying any attention. He was hardly looking at Becker; it felt more like he was staring through him, like he was invisible, the way it had been before. Becker swallowed again.

“I...you didn’t deserve...I just wanted you to know...that I’m sorry. For my part...I…”

“Please...just…”

Becker’s voice caught in his throat when he heard the angel speak. His voice was soft, but there was something painful about it. Something sad. He immediately clamped his jaw shut, standing at attention, swallowing again. There was something much more focused in those golden eyes now. He waited patiently, the silence dragging, until finally-

“...go.”

The command was spoken with a cold authority that he had never heard nor seen from the angel. Looking into those eyes, all he could see now was ice, even as his arms came up to cross over his chest defensively.

“Thank you for your warning. But now you’ve said what you came to say. So please just leave.”

Becker hadn’t been sure what he expected. Forgiveness was certainly more than he had hoped for, but some sort of acknowledgement… _anything…_ but even that was too much. 

With his jaw set, Becker gave a slow nod. He glanced back toward Grimmer, who did little more than nod his head along the direction of the stream, back toward Heine. Becker's shoulders fell slack. There wasn't much point in wasting any more time. It was just as Grimmer said; if he was found out, it would spell the end. He turned, straightening up as he made his way along the stream, walking with as much dignity as he could.

He still couldn’t help but glance back over his shoulder, watching the angel slowly disappear into the distance.

* * *

Tenma...didn’t think he would sleep at all that night.

It was difficult to find any sort of comfort when his own emotions were so scattered. Not even the gentle sounds of nature eased his nerves. Try though it might, the soft whisper of wind and its gentle brush through his hair did nothing to calm his distracted thoughts. That man, Becker...

_“Damn. They really did a number on ya.”_

The incredulous whistle and the sound of that voice were things that Tenma grew accustomed to during his imprisonment. It was just another part of his daily occurrence; he kept watch over the prisoner most days, and occasionally served as a sort of escort. Most of that time was spent watching Tenma with idle curiosity, like he were some fantastical creature.

_”Don’t try anything, yeah? I’m right here and lemme tell you trying to run is just gonna end badly for you.”_

Tenma recognized him easily even without looking; the jovial tone of his voice and the heavier tromp of his feet were sign enough to the angel of his approach. He was distinctively different from the others; not quite so severe nor as serious. Come to think of it, he was the only one that never called Tenma "bird" or "dove" or any other tasteless names they took so much amusement from. But that was a small grace that barely reached any form of decency.

The man never seemed to be satisfied with silence. He conversed at Tenma on the regular, clearly trying to find some means to dispel his boredom. Very few knew of the angel’s capture to attempt to steal him away, and Tenma himself was in no shape to make an escape. Appointing a guard seemed almost a mockery. Or perhaps paranoia. 

Tenma never answered when he was addressed. He had nothing to say to any of those men. Personable or not, images of that same man hunting him down burned away any potential for the angel to believe even a single word of genuine kindness from him.

That never stopped the soldier from talking.

_“You’re the first angel I’ve ever seen, you know that? I mean up close. You look a lot more human than I expected.”_

_“Gold eyes...is that just how all angels look?”_

_“Really not much of a talker, are you. I get it.”_

_“It’s unbelievable you heal that fast. Right now I bet you wish you didn’t, huh?”_

_“C’mon don’t make that face at me, I’m just doing my job.”_

_“Why not just do what he wants? It'll be way easier on ya. You’re just making it harder on yourself.”_

_“Geez...you look completely miserable. You'll feel better if you eat something. Trust me, I know.”_

_“You’re pretty damn stubborn, I’ll give you that. Don’t think I’ve known anyone with the kinda tolerance you got.”_

_"Still awake over there? Just had to check...the way you're lyin' there I thought you mighta conked out."_

_“When you’re ready to give in, just gimme a call. Just call out for me, okay? Your buddy Becker’s gotcha.”_

_“I don’t know what you’re tryna pull by not eating but it’s not gonna get you anywhere. You ain't gonna die, just feel like shit. You gotta eat something.”_

Over time, Tenma started to drown him out. That voice disappeared, fading into just another part of the background noise where he was imprisoned. He barely remembered anything then - vague flashes of awareness where he could see the man, but it was as though he no longer existed as a person. There was just a faceless shape that made vague sounds he no longer registered as spoken language. Each of them looked the same then. They all just watched him.

And now…now that man was trying...to _apologise._

It wasn’t wrong. There _shouldn’t_ be anything wrong with that. But Tenma felt uneasy, strangely sickened by it. There had been something that was just so...genuine in his voice, the way he looked at Tenma, that he couldn’t get it out of his mind. It wasn’t something he could dismiss as a pretense. It wasn’t an act of the disgraced guard attempting to make peace with Grimmer and his people to be treated more kindly, nor was it an empty apology spoken out of obligation rather than heart. There _was_ heart. And that made him uneasy.

That feeling was only amplified with the sudden sound of footsteps that brought a chill to the angel’s bones. He felt himself shrink a little, too tired to pin where the sound was coming from, so he kept on alert, listening and watching in the dark.

“I wondered where you might have gone.”

He took a slow, deep breath, allowing his nerves to ease at the familiar sound of Grimmer’s voice. The man was approaching slowly, the way he often did in the past, when Tenma had been incredibly wary of him. Undoubtedly he saw Tenma as being in a particularly timid state now, though he wasn’t entirely wrong in that assumption.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Tenma shook his head, closing his eyes and letting the breeze gently kiss his face and comb through his hair, offering what condolences it could to soothe the angel. He could feel Grimmer draw nearer as he lowered down to sit beside him, just far enough that he couldn’t quite reach out and touch the man. Tenma turned toward him with a small, thin smile.

“You can come a little closer. I don’t mind.”

He really didn’t mind when Grimmer was close, and right now, he needed something a little familiar. The man looked him over, then gave a small nod, scooting just a bit closer, to a distance that felt comfortably near, but not enough to be suffocating. Grimmer planted his feet, bringing his arms to relax lazily around his knees.

“It’s a very beautiful night.” he murmured, eyes facing toward the sky. “But I have a feeling that’s not why you’re out here.”

He gave a short pause before turning slowly to face the angel, his expression just a little hard to see in the dark of night. He didn’t speak, he just waited, expecting Tenma to start. It was the way Grimmer usually operated; he would remark on some observation he’d made, leaving it vague, and allow Tenma to either respond or...not. He had the choice to leave it alone, if he wanted to.

Tenma shook his head, glancing down.

“I just have a lot to think about.” he murmured, finding it relatively easy to address Grimmer like this. “I thought the air might clear my head.”

“And, did it?”

There was playful doubt in Grimmer’s voice. He was right, of course. Tenma managed a little smirk for just a fraction of a second, before he closed his eyes and sighed, leaning forward and pulling his knees in against his chest. He didn’t answer with words, choosing instead to glance in Grimmer’s direction and offer a lopsided shrug. The man nodded, tilting his head and itching his neck absently.

“You seemed quite unsettled when Sir…when _Mister_ Becker apologised so suddenly. I wasn’t quite sure I expected that either.”

There was a question in there, even if it wasn’t directly voiced. Tenma took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he gave a solemn nod, aware of that heaviness in his stomach that felt so queasy.

“I don’t know...it’s been bothering me. It’s just…”

He trailed off, his tongue suddenly heavy, laden with dread. He clenched and unclenched a fist, shaking his head when words continued to fail him. Grimmer had that look on his face...thoughtful and a little sad, but still...encouraging. It was a look Tenma had become quite familiar with. One that helped him sort through his thoughts. 

“It’s just strange to hear it now. He...for _months_ he could have said something. Done something. He was always there. And it’s...he _means_ it. But only _now…_ ”

Tenma set his jaw, aware of the bubbling emotions that were starting to boil to the surface. Things he hadn’t let himself feel, things that had been numbed by time starting to return. He was _upset._ He was frustrated and angry, confused, and a part of him even felt strangely _guilty._ That was something he didn’t understand. It was a writhing, whirling mess in his heart brought on by exhaustion and too many experience he simply wasn’t _allowed_ to vent about, things he simply had to accept. But now that he could….

"He was the one who kept guard. He saw me the most. If he cared...if he _cared_ , he could have stopped...but he didn't. When they came for me...he let them. He _knew_ what they were doing to me. He knew and he still did nothing. But now..."

All of it was coming out at once. Too much, too fast. He shouldn’t have opened his mouth, but he had, and now he couldn’t stop it all spilling out, embarrassing as it was. He didn’t like this, acting like this in front of someone. It felt immature, and rude, and undignified. But he couldn’t…

_stop._

“He kept telling me to just give up. That I shouldn’t bother fighting and let the crown have what he wants. It wasn’t because he cared, he just didn’t want to have to _see_ what was happening, so he didn’t have to feel guilty. He waited _months_ without doing anything and now I’m supposed to…I’m just supposed to...”

“Breathe. Take a deep breath, Tenma.”

Grimmer had turned completely to face him, and was holding one of Tenma’s hands between his own. Gentle warmth enveloped that hand, just like before. Tenma couldn’t say he’d noticed when Grimmer had reached out. The gesture relaxed him, brought a sense of calm to the angel, if only a little. There was something incredibly _safe_ about the feeling, about Grimmer.

He closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath through his nose, letting it out just as slowly. He still felt that burning ache in his chest, but the gently ebbing calm kept his mind from racing, kept him from rambling thoughtlessly in confused tirades. One of Grimmer’s hands removed from his, resting instead on Tenma’s shoulder. He flinched briefly, but relaxed after a moment of tension. He could hear Grimmer breathing - slow, giving him a rhythm to follow. Tenma matched the sound, letting himself ease into the feeling. His eyes opened after a while, and he took in Grimmer’s form, now just a little closer as he held the angel. There was something gently sad about the human’s eyes. Pain that Grimmer carried in his stead.

“It’s okay not to forgive him. You’re not under any obligation.”

Tenma...knew that, but hearing someone else say...having someone else tell him he was _allowed_ to be angry, and upset, and not want to forgive the soldier...that was comforting. He closed his eyes and breathed out a soft sigh. And then, once more, slowly, calmly. Breathing....breathing helped.

Grimmer hummed airily, brushing his thumb along Tenma’s shoulder in a steady motion, something repetitive that Tenma could focus on.

“It feels bad to hold onto those sorts of feelings, but it’s normal. Some feelings are ugly, but no one is completely perfect. No one thinks good things all the time, and you shouldn’t expect yourself to be any different. Being able to stand up for yourself and what you feel is a step in the right direction. If you feel angry, then be angry. Don't feel guilty, just because you can't forgive someone.” 

Deep blues met gentle gold in a brief moment of pointedness before Tenma glanced away again sheepishly. Grimmer seemed to be picking apart his emotions, almost too well. Though there was a good chance he had been in a similar place himself, in the past.

The brush of contact moved inward slightly, Grimmer's fingers just barely tickling at his feathers. Tenma couldn't help but freeze up, staring blankly at the first thing his eyes focused on. Grimmer seemed to catch on and faltered, retracting his hand just a little to rest back on his shoulder. But Tenma...

He had been startled. A little afraid. The faint brush of contact brought back unpleasant feelings that roiled in his stomach; being observed and appraised, having his feathers plucked. But this time, the feeling was...

It was so _gentle._ It was nothing like what he had grown to expect. And it felt...it almost felt...

Nice.

"Sorry about that."

Grimmer's voice was apologetic, but there was something attentive in his eyes. He probably felt he'd overstepped a line. But the fact was...as soon as he realized, he'd pulled back. Tenma drew in a long breath, shaking his head.

"It's all right. I just...I'm just used to..."

He swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the uncomfortable twisting in his stomach. He focused back on Grimmer, on the hand that still held onto his.

"You just surprised me, that's all. I'm all right."

That was where he left it, for now. He didn't want to spend any more time tonight thinking about what happened to him behind those walls. Grimmer seemed to understand, though; the man probably inferred enough from what he already knew. It was common knowledge that an angel didn't just _allow_ someone to touch his or her wings, not without considerable growth of trust.

Grimmer's thumb brushed along the back of his hand, and he closed his eyes. Tenma could feel a certain lull starting to come over him, slowly. Even if it was small, his brief outburst had managed to exhaust some of those uncontrolled emotions, putting them into a state of rest. He felt just a little more peaceful. He gave Grimmer’s hand a squeeze, the one still loosely gripping his own. He felt a soft squeeze back.

“This is all strange for me.” he murmured, eyes still lightly closed. “Angels don’t have this sort of close companionship with each other. It’s more of a solitary lifestyle for us. So this...you, and the boys…” He trailed off, smiling warmly, more to himself than to Grimmer. “It’s different.”

There was another hum from beside him. "I hope we can make 'different' something good."

Grimmer...said something else, Tenma had definitely heard him speak. But everything after that point had started to fade, blissfully, into a silent darkness. Instead of suffocating, or isolating, this darkness felt warm and enveloping.

It was a darkness that embraced him with peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad but...sweet ;-; Tenma feels more comfy at least.
> 
> This is another one I wound up cutting in half because it was getting too long. It was gonna be like 11k so I figured this was a nice end point.
> 
> The direction of the fic is also changing a little, lmao...I imagine I'll need to do a little reworking of earlier chapters. This is what I get for posting as I go instead of writing the whole thing....


	9. A Price Paid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit more unsettling. Tenma is very extremely objectified and there is very casual discussion of abuse. People are bad

When Grimmer woke in the morning, he was uncomfortable and stiff and disoriented. His first few waking moments were spent jolting upright in a mild panic, reaching for his dagger, only to realize that this place was in fact familiar; it was still the glade, still his home, but certainly not where he expected to be. 

With a slowly calming heart, he started to piece it all together. He remembered the night before well enough - how Becker, now reduced to a simple foot soldier, had come with a warning. How he had gone to check on Tenma. Talked with him a while. At some point...he must have passed out.

Grimmer huffed, rubbing at a knot in the back of his neck.

“That would explain a lot…”

With a groan, Grimmer slowly got to his feet. His right shoulder felt unusually weighted, even more stiff than the rest of him, except perhaps for his neck. His neck was _incredibly_ stiff. How he had slept like that was beyond the man. He let himself stretch just once more, making his way toward the cabin where he aught to have been in the first place. He looked up, still massaging that spot on his neck, and winced as the sky beamed down upon him.

“Already this late...”

Well...he was awake now, at least. Grimmer pulled the door open with little difficulty, his eyes still struggling to open all the way, lids still heavy from a fitful rest. 

What greeted him was the wafting aroma of something sweet, accompanied by the sound of bubbling. His eyes opened quite fully then, absorbing the sight of Tenma cooking up what seemed to be some sort of porridge - and, supervising happily, was a yellow finch that looked quite comfortable overlooking the process from the window sill. The angel’s hair was damp, which altogether told Grimmer that his friend had managed to wake up, visit the birds, bathe _and_ make breakfast all while he had slept like a log. 

Certainly as _stiffly_ as one.

He wondered if this was anything like how Tenma had felt on the first night, waking after such a lengthy rest in a place he didn't expect to be. It was just a little unsettling.

“G...oh!”

Grimmer cut himself off when the sudden _pop_ of something along his spine moving back into place took him a little off guard. He gave himself a moment before starting again, this time accompanied with a sheepish smile.

“Good morning. I see you’ve been busy.”

Tenma shrugged with his own sheepish smile, glancing down at the pot of porridge he was stirring.

“You’ve done plenty for me since I took shelter here. I wanted to do something for you for a change.”

It was a very kind offer, and Grimmer couldn’t help but feel touched. Tenma was by no means obligated to "do" anything in return, but he seemed incredibly _glad_ to be giving back. In fact, Grimmer hadn’t seen the angel ever look quite so spirited as he did now. He seemed to radiate a kind of positivity that had been altogether absent, or at least not seen by Grimmer himself.

Tenma served them both the warm, heavy meal. It was definitely good...even if it wasn’t much, it was a hearty, yummy breakfast that had been made with kind and thankful intent. Truthfully it was a very touching gesture to Grimmer, who was accustomed to taking charge on most days. He simply allowed himself to quietly enjoy the food, just as happy for a quiet and blissful morning as one shared in idle conversation. 

It had been a while since he saw such a glow in the Glade.

“How are you feeling?”

The question startled him from his quiet thoughts. Grimmer glanced up from his bowl, raising a brow at the angel. Did he seem...unwell? He certainly felt all right, did the angel see something he didn’t? Tenma’s little smirk hinted amusement, and he tried again.

“You didn’t sleep very well, did you?”

Ah, that was it.

Grimmer sat back a little, contemplating the stiffness that still burdened his shoulders. 

“No, I didn’t. It seems I passed out somewhere rather uncomfortable. This one spot especially…” He rolled only one shoulder, the one that felt heavier for some reason. “feels particularly weighted.”

Tenma’s wings twitched, his countenance becoming sheepish once again. He said something, but it was quiet, under his breath. Grimmer tilted his head, cupping a hand at his ear with just a little cheek in his expression. Tenma cleared his throat, letting out an awkward little chuckle. 

“I said...that was me.”

Another quiet pause.

“I...fell asleep while we were talking. Sorry about that.”

Grimmer...wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to think of that. On the one hand, he wanted to laugh - it was a bit funny to imagine. But on the other, some part of him felt glad; if Tenma was able to fall asleep like that, so close to him...then perhaps Grimmer had been deemed someone that the angel trusted in an important way. 

Though...the fact he didn't recall it at all told him that he, too, had likely fallen asleep not long after.

He stirred what was left of his meal idly, gazing up with a thoughtful little smile.

“I wonder if I should be insulted! If I’m quite so boring that you’ll fall asleep…”

His jest seemed to moderate some of Tenma’s flustered nerves. No doubt it was a little embarrassing to the man; brushing it off with a laugh let him know it was fine.

Grimmer took both of their bowls away to be washed and tidied the table. He’d lost a bit more time sleeping than he would have liked, but there was still plenty of time to the day. Time for them to decide just what to do.

What Becker had suggested last night, and this Johan figure…

No matter what, Tenma couldn’t be caught again. Grimmer and the others...had to prepare for what might come, and keep the angel safe. This "Johan" knew Tenma’s weaknesses, something that gave him an advantage should he attempt to capture the angel in the coming days. 

They just needed to be better, smarter. They needed a plan.

His idle thoughts were interrupted by the displeased arrival of Heckel, stomping and muttering and irate as he invited himself in unannounced. He eyed up both men with a suspicious little squint, leaning forward just a little as his gaze flicked between them. He started forward, jabbing an accusatory finger toward Grimmer.

“The boys've been looking for ya, you know that? The sun's been up for hours and you’re still just hangin’ around! You forget your head or somethin'? If there’s anyone who gets to stay in it’s me. I’ve had to bust my ass here for a good week ‘cause you’re too busy with this guy.”

Though his tone was snide and a little prickly, there was no real harm intended. Though the mousy little man professed not to give a damn about anyone but himself, Grimmer had come to note that he made a considerable effort to care for those within the glade in his own, subtle ways. The boys were worried, and so he had come looking. Grimmer squatted down - deliberately slowly, to mock the little man just a tad - and quirked a brow. 

“You’re quite pleasant today, aren’t you?” He chirped, watching Heckel’s face turn an aggravated reddish shade. He opened his mouth to speak, but Grimmer was quicker.

“I was expecting you’d come by. I hoped we might have a word.”

Heckel scowled, crossing his arms and stepping back with some muttered discontent under his breath. Tenma had an eye on him, wearing an expression that was almost comically disapproving. He seemed not to be quite a fan of the outburst.

The thief looked between the two, rolling his eyes as he deflated, finally giving in.

The three retreated to take a seat at the table, Grimmer busying himself preparing tea for the trio. He could feel a somewhat tense atmosphere in the room; Tenma was definitely less comfortable with Heckel than himself or the boys, though he could guess why that might be. Heckel was certainly more abrasive and uncouth, and had a particularly greedy nature that he flaunted almost proudly. He wasn’t sure how the angel’s affliction operated, but close proximity to someone so overt in his sin was, at the least, probably an uncomfortable feeling.

“What that guy said really got to ya, huh.”

Heckel needed no prompt; he could tell on his own what it was that Grimmer wanted to discuss. The taller man brought the tea back for the three of them, handing off a cup both to Heckel and then to Tenma, eyes flicking toward Heckel with a lopsided shrug as he handed it off. Tenma seemed to understand what it was he was trying to say, nodding subtly and relaxing as he took the cup, Heckel entirely none the wiser to their silent communication. Grimmer turned his attention back on the shorter man.

“None of what he said struck you as odd, or plausible?”

Heckel itched his neck, tugging at his ponytail. 

“It’s odd. I’ll say that. But I ain’t sure about that guy’s story. If this Johan’s as much a cunning bastard as he says, why haven't we heard of him before? Or...hell, I mean, we got the-” 

He cut himself off, eyes flicking to Tenma as he faltered.

“-we got Tenma here, had him here for over a week, and nothin’. Those rumours 'bout those guys that attacked? Haven't heard of 'em. Sides, the guy said he didn't know, right? I don’t know if we can just believe his word if he ain’t even sure of it himself.”

Grimmer nodded, stirring sugar into his drink before taking a sip.

“That’s something worth considering, of course. I’m not accepting his word blindly, but…” He tilted his head, the cup lowering into his lap. “I don’t know how wise we would be to ignore _any_ possibilities. Not for this.”

He glanced Tenma’s way, though the angel was deliberately averting his gaze. He was visibly uncomfortable, but then, with this situation…

Tenma seemed to have a difficult time accepting that he needed help from others. But, with his current state, it was unavoidable. An angel who couldn’t fly, whose powers exhausted his energy so much, had lost two of his most important defense mechanisms. Uncomfortable though he was, it was important that Tenma understood; as frightening as it was to entrust his wellbeing to someone else, he was among people who were willing to, _wanted_ to, help him.

“Right. So, we got a tipoff that there _might_ be somethin' big happening. We don't know for sure. Could be nothing, but if it turns out our super angel hunter guy’s really starting on this big plan…” Heckel shrugged, taking a sip of his drink nonchalantly. “Ya think we got a chance to stop somethin’ like that?”

Heckel phrased it as a question, but what he had given was a precaution, a warning; if there was indeed an “expert hunter” after Tenma, there was a good chance that even they wouldn’t be able to stop it. Their best course of action, then, would be to keep a low profile. To hide, or more likely, to flee.

Heckel finished his drink quickly and started back out the door, clearly having said all that he cared to discuss. He did stop to glance back over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Grimmer as he thumbed toward the door.

"You better get down to the boys now. I told 'em I'd come fetch ya. So finish up whatever you're doing n' c'mon already."

The two followed Heckel back to where the boys seemed to have - rather impressively - kept themselves well behaved as they waited for Grimmer. Heckel approached with his arms wide, grinning far brighter than seemed possible.

"What'd I tell ya? He's fine, just had a late start. Even Grimmer can be a lazy ass."

He seemed to be enjoying taking swipes here and there at Grimmer, though the man took no offense. Wim made a face, scrunching his nose at Heckel.

"You're just jealous cause you're small and can't draw. Ass."

That earned a few snickers and a glare from Dieter, while Heckel just stood mildly stupefied to hear _Wim_ of all people repeating his own crass language. He turned a look back toward Grimmer that seemed almost a little guilty or lost, but Grimmer just shrugged.

"Then stop talking like that around them."

Heckel just snorted. "Think it's too late for that."

"Oh, I don't doubt that."

Banter aside, there was work to be done. Grimmer called attention to the group, and they - miraculously - quieted down all at once, turning their full focus on him. They had slept that night pondering just what the soldier's warning had meant, and what to do with that information. No doubt their willingness to listen was to have those curious concerns lain to rest.

"You're probably a little worried about last night's guest. He had quite a lot of important things to say to us."

Grimmer looked over each of the boys. He could sense caution in the looks they gave him, a certain wariness towards the soldier. They were taught not to trust immediately, after all. But, Becker had helped them once before, and had made good on his word to help Grimmer spring the angel in his bold little ploy. While not one of theirs, the man could at least be trusted in part. Enough that he was willing to humour his warning.

"We don't know what sort of threat we might be looking at just yet. But we do know that there's someone very dangerous to Tenma. So we'll have to be very careful moving forward. What Becker told us means that there's a chance Lord Heinemann might do something drastic to take Tenma away. We may not know it for sure, but for the time being, we have to assume the worst possibility. And that means the Glade might not be a safe place very soon. We're going to have to be very cautious. No one goes anywhere without a partner. We're going to need to think about increasing our numbers on lookout at night. And..."

Grimmer took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "There's a possibility that we may need to leave the Glade."

He waited for the anxious replies from the boys, but none came. Looking around, they seemed...understanding, perhaps more aware of the situation than he might have thought. They were children, certainly, but they were intelligent and clever; they knew well enough what danger could come from Heine. And they knew what it was to leave their home to find safety elsewhere. If they did have to leave...it wouldn't be as hard for them as he thought.

Grimmer managed a smile, looking around at them all once more.

"I suppose we have some work ahead of us then, haven't we?"

* * *

The next morning saw a guest come to the Glade.

It had been Tenma who sensed the approach; though hindered in his magic and troubled by the intermittent shocks of pain that came day to day, his senses remained far superior to any human's. Barely a day had gone by since their warning was received, and someone was approaching from Heine. It was certainly just a little suspicious. The possibility that Becker had sold them out was unfortunately prevalent on the minds of both Grimmer and Heckel.

For now, they simply waited. The whole of the Glade went silent in anticipation, ready to retreat deeper into the woods, or to drive their pursuer back with his tail between his legs.

It was not, though, what any of them had imagined.

The individual - the _single_ individual - that approached their woods was a tall, slender young man wearing a dark, heavy cloak despite the warm weather. He carried nothing, his hands raised over his head. He didn’t enter the wild wood, staying just at the outskirts, watching the treeline with eyes of a radiant blue.

“I suppose I should keep my distance, shouldn’t I? Any closer, and I imagine I might be less welcome.” 

He spoke to no one but himself, though the woods listened all the same, ears and eyes on the stranger who stood so boldly at their doorstep. The wind tangled in his hair, a lovely gold that almost blinded. He bore a serene smile as he looked onward.

“I come in Lord Heinemann’s behest with glad news. The noble Lord hopes to make a deal with you and your people. We see no need for violence.”

The silence carried on, though the man continued to stare with confident intent, as though he was quite certain that he was being observed.

"I have no weapons on my person. I stand here only to talk with you, peacefully, like civilized men."

Silence once again. And then, a chuckle.

“You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little skeptical.”

The blonde turned gracefully on a heel, mildly surprised to find Grimmer somehow at his back, dagger at the ready, mirroring his kindly greeting toward Becker only days ago. The reaction he received, however, was quite different - which was to say, there _was_ none. The blonde simply watched him with those impossibly blue eyes, standing carefully still as wind gently played with his hair and the tails of his robes.

Finally, the young man closed his eyes, smiling to himself.

“I didn’t expect to be greeted with trust or open arms. However, I think you’ll find I’m less of a threat than you’ve taken me for. Search me for weapons, if it pleases you. I’m here only to facilitate a peaceful liaison between you and Heine’s crown. You may call me Johan, if you like.”

Johan...

He spoke with a gentle calmness that certainly didn’t suit a man who stood at the point of a blade. There was an almost sympathetic quality to his voice, one that reached Grimmer despite himself. He was indeed charismatic, and had a way with words - something that he would have to be mindful of.

“Peace from the tyrant lord...I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.” 

The man shook his head, eyes opening once more.

“You’ve never stolen such a valuable commodity from the crown before.”

Grimmer breathed in through his nose, letting it out in a heavy, slow sigh. _Commodity…_ that was an ugly, ugly word. And yet, as non-humans, and as rare spectacles more often seen in legends and stories in the modern day, angels were so often subjected to such a mindset. Living outside of “civilized” society had removed Grimmer from the common mentality perpetuated by the ruling elite, but it certainly...painted an image as to just what this man presumed.

In their eyes, Grimmer had "stolen" the angel from the crown; an individual whose feathers were known to have great value. The assumption then was his actions came from a place of greed and desire for wealth. Grimmer had to bite back a grimace; to have it assumed that his liberation of the angel was in some way for his own material gain left a rather bitter and unpleasant taste in his mouth.

“So Lord Heinemann wants to organize a peaceful trade.”

The young man nodded, hands clasped neatly before him. “It's a decision made not without considerable thought. Should we choose to take him from you by force, the likelihood of a clean success is low.” One hand drew out slowly, gesturing toward the great and proud wood before them. “This is your forest. You hold a clear advantage. Even if we should smoke you out, the forest stretches on and on. There would be nothing to stop you and your people from seeking refuge in the woodland of our neighbours. And then there is the angel, of course. We would rather that he not be made to suffer any more stress than necessary.”

Grimmer _had,_ until the very end, understood the logic of the young man’s reasoning. The lord could pore over his combat strategies all he liked, but entering wild territory proudly dominated by the folk they themselves threw away left little possibility for a successful attack. They could cut down a number of the boys - Grimmer certainly had no doubt of that - but there were too many places that the forest dwellers could fall back to without being seen. Indeed, with that in mind, sending a representative for a ‘fair’ trade was logical.

And yet…

He looked down on the man with cold eyes, lacking his usual heart. There was nothing but ice now, and a dark scowl.

“I would prefer it if you be honest with me. The angel that I first saw caged by your people was covered in wounds inflicted on the crown’s order. If the angel has been subjected to undue stress, the one to bear that blame is your lord. So let’s not make this about his wellbeing.”

Grimmer was behaving far too personally; it was unwise to let the enemy rile him, but the sheer struggle that Tenma had to endure...the pain even now, the feelings that he fought with...it was impossible not to let his own feelings show, just a little. And yet that stoic fellow remained just the same; calm and relaxed as those beautiful blue eyes took in his emotional display. Even though Grimmer held the dagger, it felt as though he was the one under scrutiny, being dissected by those eyes. Johan raised his head, a thin smile twitching at his lips.

“I don’t believe I ever said it _was_.” he answered simply, softly. “I said that I would rather the angel not be subjected to any _more_ stress than necessary.” He shook his head, closing his eyes. "But you couldn't possibly know the care it takes to handle an angel."

Johan’s voice was chillingly calm as he regarded Grimmer, tilting his head slightly. Somehow, that simple statement was more disturbing than anything else the man had said. It was made so easily, as easily as one would comment on a cloudless sky. He was unabashed in his acknowledgement of Heine’s intentions for Tenma, yet it was framed with such ordinary dialogue; it was simply understood that Tenma _must_ suffer, that an angel's suffering was key to profit, and yet it was treated as simple, cold fact. To think differently was to be alien. That feeling of uncomfortable dread squirmed about in Grimmer's stomach, thick and coiling and alive.

“Do you need to sit down? You look quite pale.”

If he were to be honest, Grimmer didn’t particularly want to take this discussion any further. He’d much rather send the man on his way. But, hearing him out would at least give Grimmer an idea of what Lord Heinemann was offering to other, perhaps more easily bought parties.

He took Heine’s liaison to the same spot as he had spoken with Becker; on the very outskirts of the woods, nearer to Heine, just along the river’s edge. Far enough that this 'Johan' couldn't do any harm to the glade, nor to Tenma, if he tried. Grimmer sat himself comfortably on a boulder, gesturing with his dagger for the man to sit as well.

“Say your piece. But be careful; if I don’t like what you say, I might just toss you in the water.”

It was spoken in relative jest, but the playful threat held just enough weight to remind the lad that he had ventured into another man’s territory; the consequences he might face would be judged upon his actions. The young blonde lowered down to his knees, still somehow exuding at atmosphere of confidence despite his apparent vulnerability. He looked up toward Grimmer, meeting his gaze.

“This is not an ordinary practice, but we have entered an extremely irregular set of circumstances which require cooperation between Heine and your people.” he began, with that same gently pleasant voice. “As you assumed, I’m here to negotiate compensation for the return of the angel. And you _will_ be well compensated.”

Grimmer might have laughed under different circumstances. Here he was, faced with a representative of Lord Heinemann’s wealthy elite, speaking with such charm - _his people,_ as though they weren’t the outcasts the lord cared nothing for. He found bitter humour in it. But, the way he spoke… _compensation_...that made it sound more palatable. He couldn’t imagine that was by accident; it sounded much better for Grimmer to ‘accept compensation for the angel’s return’ than acknowledge the reality of quite literally selling out his friend. 

Grimmer exhaled, concentrating on making his expression as unreadable as possible. Not like before. All the same, his insides were anything but calm, squirming and agitated.

“There’s one thing I’d like to know.” 

He paused, looking briefly away from the other man, though he could still see him in the corner of his eye. Letting him out of sight completely was a fool’s move. 

“Why is it that you’re so desperate to have _him,_ specifically? If you were able to capture this angel, I’m sure you could lure and capture another.”

That wasn’t something Grimmer was particularly pleased to think about. It was no better for Lord Heinemann to capture yet another angel, but it certainly was unusual to Grimmer that so much effort be placed into taking back Tenma. The blonde looked him over in silence, as indifferent as Grimmer himself, their expressions matched.

“Do you know what it is we want from him?”

Tenma had told him plainly enough that Lord Heinemann wanted his wings. Though exactly _why,_ he couldn’t be sure; there was no single story to explain the benefit of taking his wings. The stories Grimmer had heard of were that taking the angel’s wings made him subservient to those in possession of them, and the second claimed to bestow power to the bearer. There was a possibility for _both_ to be true, or neither. But, for now, Grimmer feigned ignorance; he shook his head, allowing the liaison to fill him in. At least with this, he could gauge just how honest the lad would be.

After a moment, the young man gave a nod. “I suppose it’s no wonder you’re confused. I would imagine you don’t know the first thing about who and what he is, either.”

There was a short pause. Just enough time for Grimmer’s brows to narrow, confusion building. This time his ignorance was genuine. Johan seemed to detect it.

“The angel that we captured is a particularly powerful one. He has the unique ability to heal both himself _and_ others. But more importantly, this is an angel capable of recovering life even from the grasp of death. Imagine what could be done with such a miraculous power.”

Well…

That was definitely more than Grimmer anticipated. 

To learn that Tenma was a powerful angel made sense; though he never once stated just how long he had been captive to Lord Heinemann, it was definitely several months. If he was subjected to inhumane torture so often, yet the crown had only barely tainted him, it certainly spoke highly of the angel’s tolerance and force of will. 

He felt his stomach twist yet again. Heckel had said something rather peculiar during his own investigation into the angel’s imprisonment; it had been discovered that the angel’s blood possessed healing properties, resulting in what was possibly an even more twisted commoditization of the angel. If he had so much power as to restore life from death, then Grimmer could certainly understand how that came to be.

Tenma…

“And what you would like, then, is for me to hand him over to you in exchange for money.”

_Tenma…_

“If that’s what you prefer. There is more the lord can offer to someone like you.” 

Those cold, piercing eyes bore deeply into Grimmer’s, beautiful and deadly at once. “We are prepared to offer a chance for reintegration into Heine, and protection for the children. Proper education for them. A steady income. The recovery of your personal history. And if you wish it, Grimmer of the Glade can be remembered a noble hero, a guardian of the downtrodden and protector of nature's beauty.”

Grimmer _was_ certainly taken aback...he had anticipated the offer of wealth, but this much...this was so much more than what those boys had ever known, all offered so easily. And even himself...it seemed, strangely, that all official record of his family hadn't been destroyed after all. Perhaps for such a situation as this. To be considered a _person_ again, a legal citizen of that place…

And all of those things...all at the cost of precious life.

Grimmer couldn’t help but feel insulted. To be classed so easily as a shallow man…

He quirked a brow at the blonde, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He could see the tables turn - confusion, though barely there, starting to crease at the young fellow’s brow. Oh, if he only knew!

“I’m not fully sure that you understand the situation. The angel….” Grimmer opted still not to use his name; that was something Tenma had seemed uncertain of sharing, and so something that would be kept secret, for now. “The angel is not my prisoner. He does as he wishes, on his own autonomy. I suppose I could _ask_ him, if he would like to go with you. And, if you’re still willing to pay some ghastly sum for his willful choice, then I certainly won’t complain! But, may it be known…” His expression darkened just then, his face becoming more severe. “The angel is not ‘mine’ to give. Not for a price, nor anything else. I imagine he would rather have nothing to do with you, not after all that you put him through. And I certainly won’t argue that decision. It’s his right as a free man.” 

The youth opened his mouth, paused, then closed it again. Oh, Grimmer could gather what assumptions he had drawn; that he had been tipped off to the angel’s presence within Heine’s court, and hoped to make use of him for the benefit of the Glade. Living in such a world of wealth had tarnished the views of those within; they understood only money and value in things that could be sold and traded. But in a world without the structure of civilisation, Grimmer and the boys came to appreciate their own way of living. To offer them a place, even a safe one, in a country that held them to such contempt was...an impossible thought. 

Grimmer crossed one leg over the other, regarding the befuddled man with dry amusement.

“If that’s your piece said, then I recommend you move along now. You’re not a very convincing presence, nor a welcome one, I’m afraid.”

The man narrowed his eyes, but stood gracefully, blinking slowly as the breeze played at his hair, catching golden wisps. He walked along past Grimmer, pausing only to reach out a hand to shake - an odd gesture, though perhaps it was simply in his nature. He seemed a cordial type. If begrudgingly, Grimmer reciprocated, taking the opportunity to exude just a bit of strength in his grip, a silent, but definitely heard, threat.

“Lord Heinemann will not be pleased.”

He turned without another word, hand slipping away, as he started walking with that same ethereal air about him. There was definitely a threat in those words. One that would certainly be acted upon. The Glade...wasn’t going to be a safe haven for much longer, as he had thought.

* * *

The day progressed altogether peacefully. Nothing was out of place, almost as though that discussion had never happened. It really had only been that one man, that eerie blonde fellow, who came to offer peace. Yet his tactics were so overt, so driven by and for greed, that it was impossible to think he truly expected to succeed. Even if Tenma _were_ a prisoner of the Glade, to imagine that they would hand him to the country who despised them the most was unfathomable. There was no way he could have expected to succeed, even with his generous offer.

It put Grimmer in a state of unease. Even as evening came, and the forest became a sleepy, quiet place, his mind was actively distressed. Grimmer occupied himself by walking the woods, keeping alert, watching and listening for anything. Even now, there was nothing; only the cries of animals and the wind crying through trees. 

“Now _you’re_ the one wandering off.”

Grimmer felt his heart skip a beat, though outwardly he showed nothing. Not terribly visibly, at least. He turned slowly, letting out a breath to ease his heart as he managed a smile, turning it to the angel that had followed him. He wondered how long Tenm had been tracking him.

“So I am.”

Golden eyes warmed with something sympathetic, though for what, Grimmer wasn’t sure. There was a moment of silence as both parties seemed content for just a while to enjoy the silence of nature. At least for a time.

"You've seemed off since this morning. I wanted to...to ask if you were all right."

Grimmer couldn't help but smile then, a little more warmly, genuinely. For Tenma to be the one reaching out now...

"I am. We had a bit of an intense discussion, but I'm definitely all right."

Tenma...despite how he looked, he was an incredibly powerful being. One who had the power to heal others, even to restore the impossible. That was something Tenma had kept to himself; it would only be fair, to tell him what he knew.

Grimmer let out an audible sigh, catching the attention of his companion.

“He told me something about you. Who you are. And your power.”

Gold eyes blinked toward Grimmer. He said nothing as he waited for the man to continue, clearly unbothered by the admission.

“Your being able to heal others...that isn’t a trait common to all angels. It’s a sign of something powerful. And that’s why…” He looked Tenma in the eye, a certain sadness there. “That’s why he wants your wings. To claim that power for himself.”

There was a short, thoughtful pause. 

“And that’s all he told you.”

Grimmer nodded. The angel beside him huffed, bringing fingers through his hair. He chuckled, though the sound was bitter.

“So Lord Heinemann wants to heal the injured and cure disease. That sounds nice.” 

There was an uncharacteristic sarcasm positively dripping from the angel’s tone. His wings twitched a little, and he shook his head.

“Healing is only one side of what I can do. Restoring life...but that energy flows both ways.”

The look he fixed Grimmer with held foreboding purpose. There was something more, something he expected Grimmer to discern for himself. An energy that flowed in both directions...if on the one hand he could restore life, then the opposite was to…

Grimmer dragged a hand down his face, as though he could wipe away that ugly revelation.

“Convenient that the young fellow neglected to mention something like that. Lord Heinemann in possession of that kind of power..." His face scrunched distastefully. "That’s quite a frightening concept.”

Tenma relaxed, glad that Grimmer seemed to understand. His wings fluttered again and he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced away.

“Now you know why giving in isn’t an option.”

There was that foreboding silence again. Grimmer felt his lips fall into a deep frown.

“You’re right, but that’s not why.” He could feel Tenma watching him, could all but feel the question left unspoken. “The only one who has a right to your wings, and their power, is yourself. That’s where it ends. That’s the only reason you need to refuse him, or anyone.”

There was a pause then, another silent moment as Grimmer took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Tenma chuckled beside him, though the sound was confused, a little uneasy, almost unsure of itself.

"I'm not the one who needs to be convinced of that." he joked, or tried to, his expression softening to something more genuinely grateful, though still just a little flustered. "But it's still refreshing to hear."

Grimmer nodded, though kept quiet. He had definitely blurted that a bit out of the blue, but it was hard not to speak up when he was still trying to suppress the number of uncomfortable, swirling emotions that had built up from that ugly conversation.

Tenma seemed aware of it, though, looking over him with those incredibly deep golden eyes.

"But that wasn't all he said to you."

Blue eyes flicked up, catching Tenma’s curious ones for a moment. What Johan had said...wasn't something that Tenma should have to hear. But the look that he was giving...and the fact it was _about_ him...

Grimmer nodded solemnly, looking out toward the trees, where the sun was starting to sink low. 

“He made quite an impressive offer to have you..."returned" to Lord Heinemann. I imagine to some, it might be quite tempting. Though…” He tilted his head, managing a smirk toward the angel. “It didn’t exactly work as he hoped, I don’t think.”

He saw Tenma shudder briefly, visibly trying not to show any sort of emotion in response, but it lasted only a moment before the angel managed to put a smile back on his face, though it remained a tired little thing.

“And what offer was that?”

A...a question like that…

It was spoken light-heartedly, and as Grimmer observed the angel, there seemed to be no...at least no _visible_ uncertainty of his friend. He was asking not out of fear, but to show Grimmer that...he was all right. All the same, Grimmer felt that pit form in his stomach. He turned fully to face the angel, even as Tenma gestured for them to take a seat. Grimmer lowered down into the grass, closing his eyes as the soft, damp blades brushed between his fingers. Even uneasy, something as simple as nature’s touch could ease him just a little.

But only...only a little.

“It really doesn’t matter, does it?” he breathed, trying to keep that gentle warmth on his face despite the ugly feeling in his stomach. “After all, you…”

Grimmer reached out, brushing the angel’s cheek, a chill starting to pass over him. He could feel the smile on his lips slowly dying. Despite all efforts, the pretense was fading. 

“It’s impossible to place that kind of value on you. It can’t be done. There...there’s nothing ...”

Grimmer trailed off, drawing in a slow, wavering breath through his nose. He lowered his head, able to feel that queasiness far more now than before. His thumb traced slow lines against the angel’s skin. It was smooth and warm and soft, but all the same, Grimmer could recall the first time he saw the angel. Could only imagine the many times before.

This person...had bled, and hurt, and hungered; had feared and mourned and been broken down until he could hardly recognize himself. Even now he was still hurting, still wounded, trying desperately to heal. Those were all things that had caused Grimmer pain to think about, but now...right now…

With such indifference, he had been asked to ‘return’ Tenma, as though he had ever belonged to the crown. Told to accept superficial payment in exchange for the angel’s freedom, his life. Listening to the way that Johan had talked about Tenma...as if causing him to suffer was simply the accepted 'normal'...the utter lack of sympathy for what he endured...

He could feel a warm trickle in his eyes, the slight wobble in his vision. 

“You can’t be bought.” he said at last, so quietly he barely heard it himself. “You can’t.” 

Wracked with deeply painful feeling, Grimmer let his hand trail along the angel’s cheek, just barely touching the skin. He bowed forward, eyes closing as he allowed a few tears to fall quietly. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t really know _what_ to say. He just breathed, holding the angel gently, because it was all he could think to do. There was nothing... _nothing_ that he could do to heal the scars on this person's heart. He could provide shelter, and protection, he could offer companionship and kindness, but those weren't nearly enough, far less than what Tenma deserved. He gave all he could, but that...that was only so much.

Tenma...seemed surprised for a moment, observing the man’s emotions quietly. He seemed unbothered by the touch, even comfortable. After a moment he found himself leaning in toward the man, so that their foreheads brushed just slightly. Grimmer's eyes opened, blearily aware of the angel's closeness, even as Tenma put an arm around him, drawing his hand gently along his back. This was the first...the first time that Tenma had hugged him like that.

"It's all right. It's okay. I'm..."

Tenma shifted, drawing Grimmer in against his shoulder, repeating those linear movements against his back.

"I'm here, and I'm happy. And whatever it is he said to you...it doesn't matter. Just like you said. It's going to be okay. You're the one who told me that."

Tenma was...trying to ease his heart. And, logically, Grimmer knew...there was no purpose in his sorrow but to make himself miserable. All the same, for just a short few minutes, he had to allow those feelings to be felt; they had been building for quite a while unchecked. _No one_ deserved to endure the magnitude of suffering that Tenma had. Not anyone, not for any reason.

He bowed into the angel’s shoulder, his eyes closing again. One hand tucked hair behind the angel's ear, while the other moved slowly to wrap around the angel. He hesitated, though, at the familiar, ticklish feel of feathers as he came just a little too close to those wings again. He opened his eyes, faltering as he had before. This time, though, Tenma gave a small nod. There was a whisper of something, quietly in his ear. Soemthing he only barely heard. _It's okay._

After just a little more hesitation, his hand trailed slowly over those feathers, waiting for Tenma's reaction, but none came. His fingers spread a little wider, the soft feeling of feathers tickling the skin. Tenma made a small sound, but just as quickly he relaxed. Grimmer traced slowly with his hand in soft, downward strokes. Tenma was breathing in time with the gesture; he had definitely seemed unsure the first time, but now, the gestures seemed to soothe him. 

Even so, after a short while he pulled back. The last thing he wanted to do was inadvertently trigger something unpleasant.

Grimmer pulled his hand away, looking over the angel carefully, though Tenma seemed just fine. The angel fluffed his wings, his arms relaxing in his lap. There was a brief flash of a smile, something reassuring, promising Grimmer that he was all right, that it was fine.

Neither said a word, but in that moment, something…something was understood. Something a little frightening, and exciting at once. Grimmer isolated that thought, saving it for another time. It simply wasn’t appropriate now, to dwell on something like that. He watched as Tenma relaxed backward, closing his eyes as the wind twisted and tangled his hair, dancing about with a solemn wail.

Tenma’s wings unfurled, wrapping around himself like a delicate, lovely shield. The angel’s eyes were closed now, but a certain build of dread was palpable. 

“They’ll come back for me. But not for a trade.”

Grimmer nodded slowly, well enough aware of the danger looming in their future.

“They will.” Grimmer stood up slowly, glancing up as rain started to filter through the branches of the trees above them. He reached out toward the angel, a hopeful look in his eye despite the dread in his heart, and the uncertainty surrounding them. “But you’ll have support.”

Tenma took his hand, looking skyward as rain started to fall a little more heavily. He led them back to the cabin, pushing the door open for Grimmer behind him as they fled the unexpected downpour. The angel stepped away, taking a deep breath as he stood and simply watched the rain fall, arms crossed over his chest in that defensive way.

“Whatever happens, please promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t…”

He swallowed, inhaling slowly and releasing it in an equally slow breath. He turned around, eyes wide and just a little lost, filled with something sad, but powerfully determined.

“You’re someone I don’t want to lose.”

Grimmer felt his heart swell just a little, that feeling he had put away threatening to break free. For now, he kept it at bay, turning a smile on the angel. He closed the distance between them, placing his hand over Tenma's in encouragement. 

“I promise.”

* * *

The air grew still and silent as Johan walked along the riverbank, hands clasped neatly in front of him. He stepped carefully, balancing on rounded stones, his footsteps inarguably dainty and nearly feylike in grace as the blonde tactfully avoided stepping on any of the many flowers and shrubs that grew so near the gently coursing stream. Not once did he slip, though the ground was quite wet from the recent rain. He crouched at the water’s edge, dipping his fingers into the clear, chilled stream, feeling as it ebbed against his skin. He dipped the whole of his hands into the water, cupping it into his palms and splashing his face. He sighed softly, the whisper of his voice joining the gentle breeze that twisted about Heine’s border.

There was a curious chirp, and as the young man looked, it was to see a yellow finch had come to rest an arm’s reach away from him, twittering at the man with its delicate little voice. A soft smile broke across Johan’s lips and he shook his head.

“You’d best not come any closer. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be any good for you.” 

He couldn’t be sure if the creature understood him, but it remained a distance away from him. Johan closed his eyes, reaching for the clasp on his cloak. How heavy they felt, weighed down by such unforgivingly thick fabric. He raised his head into the breeze, allowing his cloak to fall down to pool on the rocks at his feet. Pitch-black wings flared wide, a few feathers falling down to the ground. He crouched to pick them up, then allowed himself simply to stand and bask in the free feeling of having his wings spread at last.

So long as he was alone, he had no need of that cloak to hide his nature. He slung it over his arm, carrying it as he continued on his way, ever careful not to step upon the many plants that grew here. He glanced once more over his shoulder, back toward the glade so far in the distance. He was, admittedly, surprised by how genuine the human had been. There was affection for the angel, born of something real. That certainly posed a threat to his Lord’s plans, but Johan saw no danger; he had already sown his seeds. He could feel it beginning to take root. Soft was the wail of the wind, crying from the depths of the wild wood.

The Glade would soon become a very different place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was quite gross but there was something Soft as a reward.
> 
> And Johan's an angel! Surprising to no one I'm sure. He's up to something. Bad stuff. Next couple of chapters are gonna be ouch, we're coming to the climactic bit :)


	10. The Fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well the good news is nothing too nasty happens in this chapter. But at what cost.

The wind hadn’t stopped crying.

It was something that Tenma had noticed; there was a different character to the sound, a wail that had started late in the afternoon the day before. Ordinarily, when he closed his eyes and simply allowed himself to feel the breeze, it would whisper and sigh gently as it played with his hair and kissed his face coolly. But of late, all he had heard was the moan and wail of a blustery wind, one that writhed and trembled and shook.

 _Something_ wasn’t right. That was what the wind was telling him. But exactly what...he couldn’t be sure.

Not at first.

A clue made itself known in time. It was barely the crack of dawn when he left, called by the howls outdoors. He was quiet enough as not to disturb anyone, then made his way along a familiar path. The wind guided him with its twisting and turning toward the stream, a place of comfort. Tenma walked carefully, doing his best to maintain balance despite the mossy, wet rocks.

He crouched by the water, dipping his fingers in and drawing them against the gentle flow toward the west. He watched a group of small fish - minnows, perhaps - pass by, undeterred, quickening their pace as they spied his fingers in the water. Nothing seemed particularly out of sorts, but he was quite certain that here was where the winds had sought to take him, for it was here that the wind died away completely.

He stood now in idle silence. _Eerie_ silence.

He walked along with steady strides, stopping only when he heard familiar, sleepy twittering from somewhere nearby. The light of the sun was finally starting to glow through the branches of trees, illuminating the waterside grove in greens and pale yellows.

Looking around, it didn’t take Tenma long to find the source of those soft warbling coos; sitting in a nest of long, unkempt grass was the bright yellow finch that had accompanied him the day before. She fluffed her wings, looking up at him from her spot in the grass, though she didn’t rise to meet him, her head lowering once more as she nestled deeper into the grass. Tenma smiled fondly and crouched down near to her.

"Tired this morning, I see. What about your chicks?"

Tenma reached out, scooping her neatly into a hand, drawing his thumb over her feathered head slowly, gently. 

He very nearly dropped the little thing, though, when a sense of nausea and exhaustion flowed over him, tickling along his spine.

Nausea and exhaustion...and something else, something that jolted through his wings like a gentle electric shock.

It wasn’t painful - not like the shocks of pain that came from his slowly progressing fall. It was warm...something not unlike what he had felt when he used his powers to heal little Dieter.

Tenma drew in a slow breath, an empty feeling of dread starting to settle in his gut. 

Whatever it was that afflicted the finch, it wasn't natural. By that familiar feeling that coursed through his wings, almost comfortable and inviting, he would almost dare to say it was angelic. Another angel had been here, and recently. And for some reason, this bird...

Looking down at the finch, he felt a twinge of pity for her. He knew that he shouldn’t, but...for the sake of such a small creature…

He closed his eyes, reaching into what stores of his own angelic energy remained. The closer he came to falling, the harder it became to reach inside himself to grasp that power, like it was slipping away. Still, to cure the affliction of such a small animal was nothing; certainly it wasn’t the same thing as healing a human boy.

There was a brief warmth as his own energy coursed through the bird, lifting whatever plague had exhausted her. The finch twittered at him once again, hopping to her feet and flitting to light on his shoulder instead. Tenma smiled, but stayed down on the ground as a minor spell of dizziness caused his head to spin.

He was glad, at least, that he had accomplished something. Even something small.

Even so, Tenma remained unnerved. The sleepy energy that had left the finch drained had felt familiar in a way that made his skin crawl. It reminded him of his own slow drain, during his imprisonment at the hands of Heine's court. And of course, that he had sensed something angelic...

He didn't know what to think. He supposed it was possible that an angel had passed through this area. They rarely made themselves known, even to one another. But the idea that any would come so close to Heine's border willingly seemed strange. Thinking about it only grew that sense of dread.

He felt the groan of his stomach before he heard it. The little finch had heard it too, finally lifting away from his shoulder. Tenma managed a small smile.

"I apologise, I hope that wasn't rude of me. Though..."

Glancing up to the sky, he noted just how bright it had become. No doubt Grimmer was up and about now. He'd been quite concerned the night before, after that meeting. If Tenma disappeared for too long, he would probably worry. And besides that, Tenma needed to get some food in his system.

He felt just a little flutter of excitement, thinking about that. For something so simple, so small, he really...was allowed to enjoy eating again. He could never thank Grimmer enough for that.

Tenma waved to the little bird, smiling as he turned his back.

* * *

Tenma could see it and feel it on the way back to Grimmer. It was subtle, but now that he knew what he was looking for, he could feel it all around; a faint, tired energy that felt uncomfortably familiar. Birds flitted about here and there, and animals scurried and plants swayed, but to the trained senses of an angel, it just wasn’t quite right. _Something_ was present. Something put in place by an angel.

Or someone who had stolen the powers of one.

Tenma recalled the story that Grimmer had told him a short time ago - about the _first_ angel captured by Lord Heinemann. He didn’t know what the angel’s fate had been, but if Lord Heinemann had similar designs for the first as for himself...then it was possible that this sleepy energy was something that he had stolen from that angel. 

That sense of dread felt just a little heavier.

He found Grimmer with a number of the boys, picking fresh tomatoes and putting them in baskets. He looked up when he saw Tenma's approach and smiled, waving him over. Tenma's wings twitched a little and he walked over, making a quick, quiet assessment of the gathered party. Nothing seemed terribly out of sorts. Not that he could see, at least.

"The tomatoes are starting to ripen. We found a bunch of really good ones already. Want to try?"

Grimmer held out a few of the small, round tomatoes, offering them to Tenma. He was only hesitant for a moment, taking a few seconds to process what was being handed to him before he reached out to lift them from Grimmer's hand.

Even in that brief moment of contact, he could feel it. That same energy was here, too. Grimmer...

He didn't _seem_ to be affected. As far as Tenma could tell, he looked just fine. But he could imagine that had something to do with his size; humans were far more complex creatures than birds. For the same affliction to have an effect on him, it probably...had to be more potent. Grimmer was...

"You're looking a little bit worried."

Gold eyes widened and the angel looked up. Grimmer didn't say anything more, but he'd definitely picked up on Tenma's anxiousness. The angel shook his head, plopping a tomato in his mouth.

"Just-"

He broke off, looking away sheepishly, taking a few seconds to chew the tomato he'd just tried to talk through. In hindsight, he probably should have done the talking first. Grimmer seemed mildly amused by his state, though, so Tenma let himself chuckle just a little, if only briefly.

"It's just that something feels strange. Something in the air."

He kept a light smile on his face, though his eyes flicked towards the boys, then back to Grimmer. The man tilted his head, seemingly catching on as he offered a short nod.

"You've been out all morning. You must be hungry. I'll make you something to eat?"

He didn't wait for an answer, ushering Tenma along. He glanced back toward the boys, waving Dieter over.

"You can take things over for me, can't you? There's only a little more work to be done."

Dieter nodded a confident little nod. Grimmer fluffed his hair fondly, once more ushering Tenma along, so that they were out of earshot of those boys, in a quiet environment. They didn't go back to the cabin, though; they went to the flower fields, down by the row of poplar trees, where they had first had a quiet conversation together, just the two of them. Grimmer sat first, knees up, arms lazily wrapped around his legs. Tenma followed suit, that heavy feeling returning once more.

"I noticed it yesterday already. I'm sure you must have heard it, too. The wind. How it sounds."

It wasn't windy now, but Grimmer seemed thoughtful. He shook his head eventually, a soft frown on his lips.

"To be honest, I never paid much mind to the 'sound' of the wind."

Tenma nodded, his gaze turning forward, into the distance.

"It's been crying. It sounds like something is in pain. And this morning, I saw...and felt...something strange. It was one of the birds. She wasn't well. I could feel it when I held her, like a sort of sickness."

There was a twitch, his wings ruffling, agitated. He pulled his arms around his chest.

"It felt like that time, when I was _there._ Draining. Like that."

There was a shift in the atmosphere. It was strange, even without looking Tenma knew what sort of expression Grimmer had, what sort of feelings were there. The potency of those emotions was almost physically tangible, permeating from the man almost like a deeply worried fog.

"Do you think there are more of those...things?"

Grimmer had shifted a little closer to Tenma, as though his nearness offered some sort of protection to the angel. At the very least, it provided comfort.

"I don't think so. I can't imagine that's the case. It felt like it was some sort of angelic energy. Something that was made by an angel."

Once more, he paused, turning his golden gaze back towards Grimmer.

"I could feel it in you, just now."

Grimmer seemed to take a moment to process that, leaning back and tilting his head. His expression was difficult to read, though it didn't seem to be intentional. If it had, then Tenma might assume he was trying to hide something - perhaps that he was more exhausted than he was letting on. Instead, though, it looked like he was just thinking, perhaps trying to put together the past events of the day and comparing it against Tenma's words.

"I haven't _felt_ any strange at all, if that's what you want to know. No more worn down than when I'm with those boys. Are you sure it was me, and not something else?"

That was...a possibility. He had just touched something carrying the angel's sleeping sickness; it was possible that was some sort of delayed response, or a paranoid phantom sensation that wasn't really there. Grimmer was right here with him now; it wouldn't be hard to check, just to make sure. He reached out, then hesitated, causing Grimmer to quirk a brow at him. He tried again, this time catching Grimmer's gaze.

“May I…?”

Grimmer just nodded in answer. Tenma reached forward more confidently then, touching Grimmer’s brow and tracing along the side of his face. Just like before, he felt the faint twinge of energy course through him. It was still very faint - much fainter than it had been with the finch. But then, that seemed logical in his mind. If Grimmer had been touched by that same energy, it would take longer to take effect for a fully grown adult human than a small bird.

But trying to purge it…

Even if it had only barely taken effect, Tenma was still dealing with a human. The last time he’d healed a human was already pushing his capabilities. And that was _before_ his wings had become so heavily weighted. Trying now would be…

“Is everything all right?”

Grimmer was looking up at him with a narrowed, concerned gaze. Tenma closed his eyes, letting his hand fall away as he relaxed himself, despite the nervous feeling in his stomach. His eyes opened once more, bright with purpose.

“I don't...know. I don't know. Whatever it is...even if you don't feel it, it's definitely afflicting you. There’s a chance I can remove it, if I just-”

“No, definitely not.”

Grimmer reached forward, taking Tenma’s hand in a fairly light grip, though with just enough pressure for Tenma to stop mid-sentence. The look on Grimmer’s face had gone from a tired smile to something just a little more serious, and he shook his head.

“There’s no need for you to go overexerting yourself for me. I don’t want what happened last time to happen again.” He gave Tenma’s hand a squeeze, the smile returning to his face, though his eyes were coloured with concern.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not worth risking your health over, when we can't be sure it'll do much harm to me.” He managed a wry smirk. “I’ve survived all sorts of ugly things the boys have brought home with them. I'm sure this won't be much different.”

Tenma...wasn't sure. He wasn't sure if it would be _anything_ the same; this wasn't a human sickness, it was something supernatural, beyond what his body was used to. But at the same time...he wasn't showing any sort of response as of yet. It _was_ possible that...even if he came in contact with that energy, it just...didn't affect him at all.

He started getting to his feet, stumbling slightly as he rose from the ground. Tenma put an arm out to catch him, helping the man keep his balance. He really seemed to be okay, nothing out of the ordinary, like he said. If Grimmer was all right, then at least for now...he’d try not to worry.

* * *

It was Dieter who succumbed first. All it took was a day.

It seemed like a dizzy spell at first, but the effects only worsened with the passage of time. He spoke of feeling chilled, tired. Rest seemed to be the answer, but even that didn't help. The boy was coherent enough to answer basic questions, but the sleeping sickness had all but sapped him of his strength. 

Others followed quickly thereafter.

If Tenma weren’t there to witness it, he wouldn’t believe how fast it spread. Half of the boys were already feeling its effects to various degrees, and even Grimmer admitted to similar discomfort, leaving himself and Heckel as the only two fully able adults, along with a number of the older boys who still remained relatively healthy.

For now.

Whatever its function was, Tenma at least seemed to be relatively immune; even as he helped tend to the children that had fallen under the weather, he felt that energy pulse through him, but never linger. It seemed to be too weak to stand against his own natural healing, which told him that the angel who created it wasn’t quite as powerful as himself. That, or this strain of their magic wasn’t meant to harm other angels.

For now, he couldn’t tell which. All he knew was that they needed to find a way to counteract it. While it didn't seem lethal in any way, it put their plans to relocate to the west on hold indefinitely. And that kind of timing...

For now, Tenma did all he could to keep the boys comfortable.

It did put him in a bit of an odd place. Working together with Heckel, of all people...ordinarily Heckel was the one person that Tenma tended not to associate with, not as much as the others. He couldn’t actively say he _disliked_ the man, that wasn’t quite it. But he tended to pride himself on his...less than savoury attitudes. For an angel, and particularly for him, fighting the effects of his own sin, that sort of thing rubbed him just a little the wrong way.

Heckel had helped save him. Tenma wouldn’t deny that, and he _was_ grateful. But as a person, he didn’t quite connect the way he did with Grimmer.

Right now though the two of them had no choice but to cooperate. He could feel that Heckel was as unsure of it as he himself was; the man was quieter than usual, like he was walking on eggshells. To his credit he was _trying_ to behave for Tenma’s sake, but it was something he could tell the man disliked. He seemed tense, a little agitated.

Then again, they all were.

“So you’re _sure_ that trick ya did for Dieter ain’t gonna cut it.”

Heckel’s abrasive tone was no less grating on Tenma’s already tender nerves, but at least right now he was working towards a common goal. The angel shook his head, his wings flattening against his back with a disconcerted twitch. Heckel seemed to notice and backed off, hands in the air.

“Easy, _easy,_ it was just a question. I wasn’t gonna _make_ ya do it or nothin’.”

Tenma just shook his head. It wasn’t that he thought Heckel was going after him in any way, he was just in an uneasy state of mind. The sudden outbreak had happened the day after that Johan figure came by with his proposal. It had seemed unusual - to Grimmer, as much as to himself - that he simply accepted refusal and left. He seemed to have an unusual wealth of knowledge about angels, so the concept that he could be the one who wore the first angel's wings was entirely possible. Possible, and dangerous. It made him an even bigger threat to the Glade than Becker had implied.

“I’m sure. The demand is too high. I don't know how many of them I could cure, or what it would do to me if I tried.”

Heckel made a face, but it didn’t seem like he’d expected anything different for an answer. He tugged at his ponytail, glancing out toward the east.

“Just thought I'd look at our options. I know he'd kill me if I got ya doin' anything maybe dangerous." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, making a sound of discontent. "It ain't a _great_ idea, but I was thinkin’ I might pay a visit to doc Schumann. Might be somethin’ he can do for us.”

Tenma opened his mouth, but was cut off by a hiss from the smaller man, waggling his finger almost chastisingly.

“Don’t bother tellin’ me it’s dangerous, I already got that. But right now people’re gettin’ sick and we got nothin’ that’ll fix it. It's been two days 'n things are gettin' worse instead a better. So it’s either we let ‘em get sicker 'n sicker or I go out ‘n do somethin’. And it's _gotta_ be me, cause I ain't the big game they wanna catch and I been doin' this a while. _You_ set foot in Heine and you're just gonna get caught. You're depressing enough as it is, I'd feel guilty.” 

Tenma...wasn't quite sure how to take any of that. About himself...about any of what Heckel was suggesting. The smaller man looked back up to Tenma, crossing his arms.

“I’ll be in and out real quick. Just keep an eye on everybody. ‘Specially that big idiot, he seems to listen when ya tell him what to do. Think you can handle that?”

Tenma narrowed his eyes, but nodded. As much as he wasn’t fond of Heckel, the points that he made were right. Seeking medical advice wasn't going to do any _harm,_ at the very least. Slowly, he nodded.

“Try to be careful.”

* * *

The thing about seekin out Schumann was ya only had a half chance of findin’ the guy. Or less. Worse, it wasn’t somethin’ you could track; guy just up and wandered out from time to time and set up shop here and there providin’ care all over like the kindly ol’ doc he was. Which was great, unless you wanted somethin’ right away and he wasn’t around.

Course, Heckel knew better than to run around like a headless bird chasin’ a guy who could be anywhere; there was always another way, and he happened to know the best way to reach him.

Schumann might be a wanderin’ doc now, but he had a home near the border wall inside Heine. He’d been the court physician for a while, before he retired. Most woulda thought the place was empty with him gone, but the guy had a daughter. 

She was a foreign kid, a girl Schumann had saved some years back. The name was a little twisted on Heckel’s tongue so he always just called her Schumann’s kid. She kept house when he went off on those trips, so the best place to start was a visit with her. She was a bright kid, knew enough about medicine herself. She was no Schumann, but there was a chance she’d have some idea what to do.

It wasn’t exactly a smart move. Grimmer’d been right in sayin’ he should be keeping his head down, and Schumann’s girl didn’t need any kinda suspicion thrown her way either. But with all the kids droppin’ like flies and Grimmer himself on the way out it didn’t look like they had much choice. 

Getting _inside_ the border wall was tougher than it was before. After their little stunt, security got a lot tougher. But there was more than one way to get past the wall. Part a what made Heckel such a menace in the past was how he’d sneak in n’ out unnoticed. Got him called "Heckel the Rat" back in the day. It wasn’t anything magic, he just happened to know his way around. If he saw somethin’ he liked he found a way to get his hands on it.

Catchin’ a ride with a caravan was the quietest way in. There was always merchants on their way in and out and farmhands who’d make special deliveries to the court. There was tighter scrutiny around ‘em these days, but Heckel knew his way around that too; the fish merchants. Nobody wanted to really give a thorough inspection when it stank so bad; guards just gave it a once over n’ went on their way. Fish was fish, nobody expected a stowaway to hide in a rank place like that.

Thanks to Grimmer, they had a good thing going with the fishing village in the west. Sort of a mutual benefit - trading resources n’ keeping an eye out for each other. It was thanks to Grimmer and the bunch of them that bandits stayed away, so it was due order that they let a guy hide with the catch for a little trip.

Hitchin’ a ride with barrels of fish was the absolute last thing Heckel wanted to do. He had an image to uphold and smelling like fish really wasn’t doing anything for him. Only reason he was willing to go this far was ‘cause those kids were stressing him out; brats were contagious on a good day, and with whatever _this_ was? Oh he didn’t wanna be anywhere near that. And well, yeah, he’d feel like garbage if he didn’t do something. There was a difference between being a thieving bastard and a real piece of trash; he’d rather stay just a step above the latter.

Even if it meant stinking like…..cod, was it cod? Did he care? Nah.

Once he was past the guards, it was easy to slip into the shadows and make his way to the ol’ doc’s place. Sure enough, it was his daughter who answered, a look of mild confusion on her face. She recoiled real fast, though, with a disgusted scrunch of her nose. Well, the smell wasn't all useless anyway. Heckel smirked, letting himself inside as soon as she stepped back.

“I ain’t that nasty, am I?”

He shut the door behind him, and she narrowed her eyes.

“That’s absolutely disgusting.”

She was about as friendly as ever, though her initial bite faded just a little after a few seconds, the situation catching up to her. Now she just looked wary.

“ _You_ of all people shouldn’t be here. What do you want?”

Normally she wouldn’t pay a guy like him any mind at all. Wasn’t exactly a very warm or friendly type; in some ways she was a bit like Tenma, in that quiet and disapproving way. Heckel shrugged, leaning against the door.

“Wouldn’t be here ‘less I had to be. Don’t know where your ol’ man is, or else I’d be on his case instead. We got some kinda situation and I need…” He trailed off, making a face. “I dunno what I need. This ain’t exactly my area of expertise.”

It was like flipping a switch. The doctor face went up, and she was walking to the back of the room, gesturing for him to follow.

“I can’t do much if I don’t know what to look for. Though, getting any of you in here to examine would be difficult. I’m surprised you haven't gotten yourself caught by now, but then I really shouldn't be, with a shady snake like you.”

She didn’t waste a second, quick to follow up over her biting little remark.

“I want you to describe what you can to me. I’ll help if I’m able. But you know I’m not made of miracles. I can’t fix what I don’t know.”

Heckel made a face, scratching behind his ear. This stuff wasn’t exactly easy when he barely knew what the problem was himself.

“They got no energy to do anythin’. Complainin’ about being cold. Hard time hearing. It’s gradual, worse in the kids. Don’t think I got whatever it is, but I dunno how long that’ll last.”

She looked thoughtful, like she was pickin her own brain for something. Kinda hard for him to comment or anythin’ if he didn’t know what she was sifting through, but he’d given her the best he could. She rubbed her brow, tucking hair behind her ear as she pulled at a little elastic band wrapped around her wrist, using it to tie her hair behind her head a little more tidily.

“And that’s not accompanied by coughing, vomiting or sneezing.”

“Nah. Just exhaustion. Temperature. And their hearing. S’all I know for sure, there could be more but you ain’t gonna get anything more talking to a buncha kids. They don’t know.” He chewed his lip, looking the girl over. “It’d help if we had your ol’ man come by and take a look himself. I’m doin’ my best but I’m no doc and nobody else is any more qualified. I know you don’t wanna get mixed up with us n’ that’s fine. But we don’t have a lotta options.”

She pulled fingers through her hair, brows knitting as she glanced away, toward the window. 

“He’ll be gone for days. Right now, I couldn’t reach him even if I wanted to.”

When she looked back toward him, her expression was kinder, a little more sympathetic.

“I suppose for now I can prepare a tonic that might help. They won’t get any better, but it’ll reduce the chills at least. I don’t know what to do about the rest other than to let them sleep.”

It was better than nothing. Now wasn’t a good time to rest, but at least making them feel a bit more comfortable would help. Heckel rubbed the back of his neck, tugging on his own ponytail.

“Listen, ‘bout payin’ for it. I kinda…”

“It’s fine.”

She didn’t even let him finish as she turned away, heading further toward the back. She paused, tilting her head toward Heckel.

“It’s for those children. I can’t ask for money for that. Father would never.”

Hell….maybe she didn’t like him much, but she was still a decent kinda person. Heckel closed his eyes, crossing his arms with a muttered _appreciate it_ under his breath. He _did_ appreciate the gesture, it was just a little weird actually...sayin' it. Didn’t come out so good on his tongue.

“So how long’s this gonna be. Do I stick around or take off for a bit ‘n get some other business done? Can’t be hangin’ around for twelve hours or anythin’ like that.”

There was a definitively suspicious look at the mention of getting ‘business’ done, but she gave no verbal response, only a quirked eyebrow to enunciate her displeasure for his antics. 

“It's just a tonic. If you’ll exercise just a little patience, it won’t take long. So please, stay put.”

* * *

The tonic she gave him didn’t look like anything special. It was clear and that was it - no weird smell, or off colour, or anything. It just looked like regular water. Wasn’t sure what he was _expecting_ but it wasn’t what he got. Then again, Heckel didn't quite know what a tonic was 'cept that it was some doctor word for somethin' medicinal.

He still wished there was more she could do for ‘em but stayin’ here was best for her; she was walking thin ice as it was and any sign she might be somehow involved with Heine's outcasts would paint her as one just like the rest of ‘em. Where she was now she could help people; getting cast out would lose her all the resources she had access to. It was a choice he respected well enough so long as she didn’t turn around and play ‘em like everyone else.

Getting _out_ through the border wall was easier than getting in. Not to say it was as nice as it used to be, but the wall was made more to keep gremlins like him _out_. When a caravan was leaving they didn’t care; inspection on the way out was more forgiving. 

He still smelled like fish though. Even if it was for Dieter ‘n the others he really had a hard time justifying to himself that it was worth the ungodly stench.

He decided to take the longer route back, following along the stream that eventually wound its way into the wild wood. There was a low, hissing wind that weaved around him, the sound hushed and wheezing. Heckel kept an ear out, listening for anything out of the ordinary. Just ‘cause he made it in and out in one piece didn’t mean he was in the clear. The trek between the border wall and the glade wasn’t exactly safe passage - ‘specially not for him. 

The real danger he faced wasn’t bandits hidin’ in the dark though, it was his own damn feet. Slipping on mossy rocks was par for the course by the stream but he shoulda known better than to split his focus too much. He clutched his cargo close against his chest as he fell back on his ass, only glad that the rocks were smoothed from all the water. Coulda been a lot worse, but all the same the shock of pain down through his legs and up his spine was absolutely doing _nothing_ for his already fantastic mood.

Heckel hissed, staying on the ground for just a minute as he let the dizzy wave pass over him. He took a look at the waterskin in his arms. Didn’t seem to be leaking, so at least he’d kept that thing safe. At his own expense. 

Couldn’t help but laugh at himself. 

“You better be worth somethin’ or else I busted my ass for real over a useless-”

Heckel glanced up, aware of a sudden, thick fog. He scowled, slowly getting back to his feet. Fog was a double edged sword; made moving around unseen easier, but it also meant anybody else lurking could do the same. Right now his ears was all he had.

He didn’t waste any more time sitting around; there was a lotta walking to do before he got back to safe territory. Right now he was exposed. Keeping his eyes up and his ears open, he made a slower trek back toward the glade than he normally might; moving too fast meant slipping again, and right now that put him at a greater risk. 

He was really starting to feel this hadn’t been worth it. 

At least no one had come at him yet. There was a real atmosphere of doom though; fog had that effect, just felt suffocating and made everything look like something dangerous. There were shapes that he thought were moving, but as he passed them by turned out to just be nothing. Paranoia in the woods was a real bastard.

His ears, though? Those were harder to deceive. So when he heard the definitive _crunch_ of something behind him he came to a full stop, turning around real slow to face it.

Couldn’t quite see what was there; they were just far enough out of sight that he couldn’t tell. But there was something there. He took a slightly broader stance, keeping an eye on where he had his feet. Didn’t wanna slip again like he did last time.

“If you’re gonna sneak around behind somebody, you gotta be more careful ‘bout the way you walk. It’s pretty embarrassing.”

No answer. He knew he heard something; paranoia mighta got his eyes seeing things, but his hearing was somethin’ he prided himself on. So...whoever it was just thought they’d try to fool him into thinking there was nothing. He sighed, reaching for his knife. 

“You really don’t wanna try that with me. My hearing’s what’s saved me a lotta nasty encounters. So just come on out ‘n tell me what you want.”

Silence again, and then a soft, tittering chuckle. 

“You have the wrong idea I’m afraid. Unlike you, I take time to consider what want to say.”

Heckel felt a tight coil in his gut.

 _Hell_ no. This guy….wasn’t even a goddamn week and he was back already.

Heckel’s lips curled back in a grimacing sneer, edged with something menacing and wary at once.

“Pretty sure we made it clear we don’t want ya comin’ around any more.”

There was a rustle, and the man stepped forward. At first, his figure was shrouded in fog; tall and unnerving, the hazy shadow neared him until finally the ethereal blonde, still clad in that dark robe, stood before him. He had that serene smile, an expression that was almost doll-like and bored, soulless. 

“This isn’t your forest, is it? We find ourselves on neutral ground.”

Heckel turned his knife in his hand, keeping his eyes fixed on that smiling bastard. 

“So what, you out for a stroll? I catch you in the middle of an afternoon walk?”

Piercing blue eyes moved from Heckel’s face to the waterskin tucked under his arm. He pulled it a little closer instinctively. For just a moment, there was a twitch at the man’s lips.

“That won’t help.” he breathed, his voice soft, spoken with a sound that was nearly compassionate. “They’re going to die, I'm afraid.”

Whatever Heckel was going to say died on his tongue with those words.

He wasn’t one to just believe what some guy said; he was no doctor, that was for sure, but what twisted his gut wasn’t his diagnosis. It was the implication of what he just said.

Heckel said nothing, _did_ noting, to give away what he was doing. A traveller with a waterskin was nothin’ strange. Even more, that statement… _they were gonna die._

Heckel started advancing, letting the waterskin fall to the ground as he stepped toward the ethereal man. He in turn raised his hands, backing away with that neutral expression.

“And just _what_ ,” he hissed out, “do you know ‘bout that.”

There was no room for playing around and dodging his question with pretty word games. He needed an answer. Johan should have absolutely no knowledge of what was goin’ on in the Glade. Not since they sent him back. The blonde just looked down at him, blinking slowly. He turned around, turned his back on Heckel and started walking away, taking slow, leisurely paces.

“They’ll lose the capacity to function within days. It won’t matter what you do. Their senses will fail them, and then their bodies. Even breathing will become a taxing chore. Their energy is being siphoned away, and there’s nothing that you can do to save them.”

The man paused in his steps, turning those eyes back on him. Heckel, despite his vigour, hadn’t moved. _Couldn’t_ move. He didn’t know how Johan knew… _what_ he knew, but there was more going on than he thought. More than he could accept.

Those boys…

“But there is something _I_ can do.”

There it was again, that empty dread.

He already knew what it was Johan wanted. Knew that wasn’t something he could give.

“And exactly what’s that? If you’re sayin’ it’s hopeless than how do I know you ain’t playing on some hope I got just so you can get the angel and screw the rest of us?”

The man shook his head, still as calm as ever, as undeterred as ever.

“The affliction that they suffer is angelic, no? I’m one of a very few that knows how to counteract their magic. How do you suppose we captured your friend in the first place? If you do as I ask, then I’ll cleanse them of their disease.”

There was just something sick about this. Heckel knew why Johan came to _him_ specifically; he never hid the fact that he wasn’t even the first bit saintly. He loved money and _things_ and there wasn’t a lot that’d keep him from takin’ what he wanted. 

But even he had a few ground rules; letting a guy like Tenma take the heat so this freak could weave some kinda magic spell that _might_ save the boys wasn’t gonna cut it. The grip on his knife tightened and he gave his best menacing glare despite his stature.

“This ain’t a discussion we’re having. You’re gonna disappear now, or I really am gonna put this thing through one a those big, pretty eyeballs.”

The only visible shift in Johan’s countenance was a slight deflation of his shoulders, and his eyes closing. He sighed, lifting his head slowly to the sky as the breeze picked up once more, wailing its sad little lulls around the man.

“I certainly believe you. I’ll be leaving now. But, if you change your mind, you know where I can be found. The Noble Guard will allow you passage if you tell them that I sent for you.”

Heckel didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He had nothing to say to that. Johan only smiled, clasping his hands once more.

“You should know already, but if you speak of this to anyone, she will die. But as always, if you don’t believe me, then you’re welcome to take that risk.”

With those words, Johan turned once more, walking away with a wave of his hand.

With the return of the wind, the fog lifted, leaving Heckel alone with nothing but his thoughts. The waterskin was gone, but right now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

* * *

As he made his way back to the Glade, Heckel found himself more than a little surprised not to be confronted by Tenma. That angel could hear things even Heckel couldn’t, and at an even greater distance. Which meant that either he was waiting for Heckel to approach him first, or that snakey blond had kept their little chat out of Tenma’s earshot. 

And the way things were he wasn’t sure he wanted to approach the topic.

Heckel didn’t exactly _believe_ Johan. He liked to see proof before he took anything for fact ‘cause he knew well enough as an exceptional liar how easy it was to fool anybody. But that said, he also wasn’t reckless. 

He didn’t know how Johan could possibly tell if he snitched to Tenma or anybody about their chat. He had to assume there was some sorta trick involved. Who knew what kinda magic they had in their hands? If that Becker guy was right then he had some sorta influence with words alone. That sounded dangerous. Only thing that could limit somethin’ like that was your own creativity. 

He couldn’t risk it. If he said anything and it got Schumann’s kid killed...that’d just be ugly all around. Wasn’t any way that turned out good for anyone.

When he found Tenma, the angel was preparing soup for the boys. It occurred to Heckel how hungry he was as soon as he smelled it; for however long it took the guy to open up to their little crew, he made up for it with his cooking. Almost gave Heckel a run for the title as the culinary king, but Tenma lacked a certain finesse and understanding of a lotta spices, and that kept Heckel at the top, at least for now. The angel tilted his head on Heckel's approach, though didn't break a smile.

“You were gone for a while.”

The angel’s tone wasn’t suspicious, nor concerned. It was more a statement of neutral fact. Heckel felt his heart crawl its way up into his throat, an anxiousness filling his veins. If Tenma knew, then maybe he could do something. Heckel wasn’t gonna speak...not until he could be sure they weren’t being watched somehow. But if Tenma could figure it out for himself then he didn’t have to say anything.

“Yeah, well. Schumann wasn’t around n’ I had to do a little extra digging. His little girl didn’t seem to think there was much we could do ‘cept let them sleep, but she said somethin’ about a tonic to get rid of the chills. Couldn’t stick around, though; ya know my face is almost as wanted as you ‘n that big oaf over there these days.”

It didn’t earn much of a response. Least if it was Grimmer he woulda laughed or said something back. Tenma was just depressing all around, didn’t have a funny bone in him. But Heckel couldn’t hold it that much against him all things considered. 

“Anyway how’re they lookin’? Any change?”

Tenma hesitated with the ladle loosely held in hand, almost precariously so, though he held it just enough that it didn’t slip into the pot. 

“A few of them have finally gotten to sleep. I imagine they’ll wake soon when they realize they’re hungry. But nothing else has changed.”

There was a look of concern on the angel’s face. Heckel couldn’t help but be just a little disappointed; at first, he’d thought that Tenma mighta figured something out about his conversation after all, but it didn’t look that way. He was more worried ‘bout the kids and Grimmer.

Normally Heckel wasn’t a fan of people listening in on a chat but this time he’d really been hoping that Tenma and his crazy hearing had picked up on something. Looked like the one time he needed it, the guy was outta range. But really that was just his kinda luck.

He watched as Tenma tensed abruptly, clenching his jaw as his grip on the ladle tightened. Heckel’d seen it a few times, knew what those sudden bouts meant. He stepped forward, reaching for the ladle clenched tightly in the angel’s hand. He flashed Heckel a briefly hostile look, but that didn’t faze him any; the guy only seemed comfortable with Grimmer getting near him when he got like that. He felt a little threatened, so the scowl was expected.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you or anythin’, it’s fine. I was just gonna ask if you want me to take over. You gotta be tired after today.”

He tried usin' a nice voice. After a few seconds, Tenma started to relax, the fit having passed. Slowly, his grip loosened on the ladle until he’d let go. Big, sad looking eyes fixed on Heckel for a brief moment as he nodded, turning his head away.

“Sorry.”

Heckel rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand as he took to stirring up the soup.

“Don’t gotta be sorry. That’s the right way to respond. If some little guy with my face came up at me I'd hiss at him too.”

There was a hint of something like a smile for just a moment then, and Heckel considered himself victorious. He waved a hand dismissively.

“Go on, go get some rest or somethin’. When food’s ready I’ll call ya.”

* * *

It seemed like even eating was a chore for some of those kids.

Wim and Antonin had the easiest time, but they didn’t seem too affected just yet. Those two were doing a good job keepin’ away from the other sickos, so their appetite seemed ‘bout as voracious as any young growing boy’s might be. Trying to get the others to put food in their tummies though was tough; they didn’t seem to wanna do much of anything, even eat. 

Tenma seemed to do a good job of coaxing them. Heckel hadn’t seen that side of him before, but the angel had this real encouraging way he urged them on. Seemed he was good with kids, and the boys liked him plenty so that was a good thing for both of ‘em.

By the time they’d gotten through the kids, the sky was already turning dark. 

Getting them to sleep had never been easier, but then this time, Heckel wasn’t sure he felt so good about that. He dished out a little soup for himself, then did the same for Tenma. He held it out, the angel pausing briefly to mutter a quiet thanks as he took it.

“Feelin’ all right?”

Tenma glanced down at his soup, seemingly contemplating for a moment.

“As much as I can, I suppose.”

Heckel nodded, stirring at his soup before he put a little in his mouth. For however awful things felt right now, the soup really tasted great. It was hot and smooth, and had just the right blend of flavours not to be too bitter or intense.

“You really got a way with kids. Got that bedside manner the doc’s got.”

Tenma nodded, closing his eyes as he sipped at the soup. There was a faint flutter at his wings, but it wasn’t tense like before; it seemed almost a little pleasant.

“They do seem to listen to me when I talk to them.”

Heckel grinned, waving his spoon in Tenma’s direction.

“Don’t be so modest! Ya see how they treat _me?_ They respect you, that’s pretty great. You can get twenty some odd young boys to listen to ya. You’re a pretty impressive guy.”

There was a chuckle from Tenma and he shook his head, though he was smiling just slightly.

“I’m sure part of it is just that they find me interesting. But I appreciate your confidence.”

Heckel shrugged. It was probably true, but those boys really did see Tenma as somebody to look up to. He was a lot like them - somebody who went through a lot. More than any of ‘em, really. But the fact he was still trying to fight it, that was what they saw. 

There was a moment of silence, while the two just ate their meals quietly. It was just a little awkward; Heckel never really ate a meal with just Tenma, and it felt just a little weird not talking the way he usually did with the kids. Finally, though, Tenma filled the void himself, a distant look in his eyes.

“If I were stronger than I am now, this wouldn’t be an issue. I could cleanse everyone. But it’s getting harder and harder to reach those powers.”

Heckel wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t up for this kinda depressing talk right now, not the way he was already feeling. He tilted his head back, sighing up at the darkening sky.

“You better stop thinkin’ like that. It’s not gonna do you any good. Focus on figurin’ out how to turn that all around - start getting better ‘n all that.” He tilted his head, quirking a brow with a small half-smirk. “Don’t wanna put all Grimmer’s efforts to waste, yeah?”

Tenma took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“I know. But it’s hard not to worry, when I’m not the only one who’s unwell.”

Pick-me-ups were a Grimmer thing. Heckel didn’t have the first clue what to say to get the glum outta the angel’s face. Especially not when he himself had a few problems to work through. Sayin’ they’d be fine would be like lying through his teeth ‘n he didn’t really feel like doing that. So instead, he just shrugged, lazing back nonchalantly.

“Try not ta get too fussed over stuff you can’t control. It’ll do ya a lot more good.”

‘Cause telling the bleeding-heart angel not to care was gonna work.

* * *

As well-meaning as Heckel was with his words...he was in no better condition. Tenma couldn’t say he knew Heckel particularly well, but even out of touch, he could sense an atmosphere of dread around the shorter man. He worried about those boys quite a bit, but then that wasn’t surprising. By what Dieter had said, he was effectively their guardian, no differently from Grimmer. And his closeness to Dieter in particular was a painful one; _Heckel_ had been the one to save the boy from his awful circumstances. Seeing the boy slowly degrade with some unknown sickness was taking a toll. 

With the boys to bed, it just left Grimmer as the only one who had yet to eat anything. While he wasn’t as badly off as the boys, and was still relatively functional on the whole, he had been a bit too stubborn in his insistence to help out and now it was coming back to bite him. Even if he could function, he _should_ have been resting; he was now, because his body simply wouldn’t accept anything else. He’d been asleep for a few hours, more than anyone else seemed to manage.

Tenma brought a bowl of soup as he came to check on the master of the Glade, but he still seemed to be sleeping. He was breathing slowly, relaxed as he rested. Tenma put a hand to his forehead. He wasn’t fevered, not yet. He probably still had another day or so before the effects really started to show.

When he pulled his hand away, Grimmer was looking up at him.

The man looked barely conscious in an almost comical way, blankly staring as though he’d slept for days. Tenma managed a little smile.

“Awake now, I see.”

Grimmer drew in a slow breath through his nose, letting it out in a short huff.

“Seems that way.”

He brought a hand up to rub at his eyes, slowly trying to push himself up to a sitting position. Tenma set the soup aside, helping to keep the man balanced as he managed to get himself upright despite clearly being dizzy. He blinked a few times, planting his hands behind him to keep himself up.

“Oh. That doesn't feel good at all…”

Tenma raised a brow at him, waiting until he was sure the dizzy spell had ended before he went back to the soup, handing the bowl over to Grimmer. He still had that dazed look, as if he wasn’t sure what he was being handed, at least until he got a good whiff of it.

“You worked yourself too hard trying to help. If you’d kept off your feet you wouldn’t feel this miserable.”

His tone was only a little chastising, but Grimmer caught on all the same. He took a spoonful of soup, letting his eyes do the talking for now, with that apologetic blue stare. He swallowed the first mouthful, giving an appreciative nod.

“I’m not used to being in this sort of position. Even when I’m sick, I’m pretty good at powering through. But not this time, I suppose.”

The difference of course was as stark as night and day; this wasn’t just a cold, or a flu, or any sort of ‘sickness’ in the regular way. Trying to force his way through an angel’s magic was completely foolish, not something that a human could do on his own. The man deflated a little, offering a smile that seemed just a little sheepish as he continued to eat his soup.

“I hope I haven’t been a terrible stress for you. This is already a bit stressful, and I’m sort of not helping.”

Tenma was quick to shake his head, a firm and confident gesture.

“You wanted to help. I understand that. And after everything you’ve done for my sake, I think I can accept keeping an eye on you for a little while.”

Grimmer smiled past a spoonful of soup, nodding his quiet appreciation. He watched as Tenma made to continue, only to stop, clamping his mouth shut. There was a quick, split-second tension in the angel that Grimmer only noticed by how rigid he went all of a sudden, staring straight ahead. 

Those bouts were happening a few times a day now, more often than before, but at least they seemed to be shorter - more like brief, painful flashes than long moments of that pain.

Though he couldn’t quite say if that was a good or bad thing.

Grimmer gently placed the half-finished bowl on the floor a ways out from his feet, reaching out and gently brushing the angel’s arm. Tenma slowly lowered himself to sit beside him, taking a deep breath as the last little aches finally faded.

Grimmer let his fingers trace down the angel’s arm to meet his hand, resting it there quietly. Tenma tilted sideways, leaning lightly against the other man’s shoulder as he took a few deep breaths.

Between the state of his wings and the sleeping sickness that was spreading far too fast, Tenma was more than a little worried. Grimmer’s quiet reassurance helped, if only a little. Reminded him that he wasn’t alone, that Grimmer was keenly aware of his worries. Tenma closed his eyes, focusing on just that, the small, fond contact. The brush of a thumb, in small circular motions.

“Thanks.”

Grimmer hummed in response, using his other hand to touch Tenma's cheek, gently encouraging his head to turn, so he could look the other man in the eye. 

“Just remember what I told you. About having hope.”

Tenma’s wings twitched, and he nodded slowly. He knew...he knew that worrying too much only made his condition worse. He needed to be able to let go, to stop expecting the future to turn out a certain way, and take the initiative to turn it around.

Right now it seemed that hope was all they had.

* * *

Between the two of them, Heckel and Tenma worked out a sort of means to keep things functioning in the glade. Tenma’s hearing gave them at least some warning when something was coming near, and Heckel took extra care to rig traps and chase down the few bandits that got a little too close. Right now, there was no room for dickin' around, or games, or anything like usual. It was just the two of them now. Even Antonin and Wim were down; weren’t nearly as bad as the rest of ‘em, but they were slowing down, starting to feel those chills same as the other kids.

The ones who were already down were just getting worse. Dieter in particular was in awful shape. Didn’t have the energy to do anything but lay around covered in blankets. It was too hard for him to chew so he could only really manage to stomach soups and drink water, stuff like that. He was having a harder time hearing, Heckel really had to talk louder for anything to get through to him and getting the kid to talk...when he was a healthy little brat he could go on for a while if he wanted. Now, it was hard getting more than a couple sentences out.

He still seemed to be aware of the people around him; at least he didn’t have much issue registering Heckel’s presence.

He smiled when Heckel squatted down to sit by him, shimmying up a little in his blankets. He did his best to smile back.

“How’re you feelin’ there?”

Dieter slumped a shoulder, his face falling again.

“Cold.” he managed, a sleepy lull in his voice. “Tired.”

Heckel went to give the boy’s hair a little tousle, but he flopped his head away, facing the other direction. His eyes closed again and he seemed to relax. It seemed like he was more at ease when he was like that. Keeping his eyes open was just another unnecessary toll.

“Maybe you shouldn’t touch me. You might get it too.”

Heckel’s chest clenched and he swallowed thickly, biting back his nerves and stubbornly shaking his head as he reached out to flick a few strands of hair from the boy’s forehead anyway.

“You kidding? I’ve been around all you sickos plenty and I’m fine. Whatever you got won’t get me. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

Dieter didn’t smile, but he did seem a little relieved to hear that. An arm came out from under the blanket and he gripped Heckel’s fingers, eyes opening again as he looked up at the man.

“Are you worried?”

Heckel...was a lotta things. Some good, some not so good, but _speechless_ wasn’t usually one of them.

He was speechless now. Had the words choked out of him.

There was just something painful about hearing Dieter ask that. Course he knew, he was a perceptive kid, even now. Heckel opened his mouth, throat suddenly dry, words refusing to come to mind. Dieter turned his head back toward him slowly.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to be.” He gave Heckel’s fingers a light squeeze, smiling as he closed his eyes again. “It’s gonna be okay. Tenma said so.”

Heckel gave Dieter’s little hand a squeeze of his own, chuckling because it was all he could think to do. He watched Dieter slowly fade into what seemed to be a comfortable state of rest before he pulled his hand away, fluffing the boy’s hair and pulling the blanket up over him a little more.

When his eyes were open, they had looked so distant. So faraway and tired.

He walked by Tenma as he left. Didn’t look up, didn’t say anything, just walked on by. He could feel eyes on him, knew Tenma was giving him that sad look of his.

Once he was out of sight, he brought a hand up to cover his mouth, taking slow, deep breaths to soothe the boil in his blood. He found himself laughing again, his mind still too occupied for him to really do much other than that. He really just needed to go for a walk and scouting around made him feel at least a little useful.

“S’not your job to ask if _I’m_ worried.”

“He knows that you’re scared. He’s just trying to help.”

Heckel damn near felt his heart pop right up into his mouth. Apparently he hadn’t been paying much attention, because Tenma was right damn there. Right there with that…. _look_ , with those sad eyes that cared _so_ much that he just didn’t need to look at right now.

Heckel turned away, balling a fist. Tenma meant well, but now wasn't the time. He just couldn't handle it right now. He just walked off, all the while feeling those eyes staring him down, so sad he could feel it pierce him. Or maybe that was his own sadness.

He gave it two more days. Two days. They did what they could, which wasn't much. Sometimes it looked like Dieter was getting a little better, he'd be awake a little more, but it was a slow, gradual downhill slide. He was slipping. They all were.

When Heckel left that day, Tenma wished him luck. He wished he hadn't. Didn't deserve it.

It made his stomach sick. Made him feel like real trash for what he was about to do.

In the end, Heckel didn’t see this turning around. There was no happy ending. The longer things went on, the more it looked like Johan mighta been right on his prediction. And hell...Heckel was human. Wasn’t supposed to play favourites but he did. If it was between the lives of those boys and Tenma…

Well...he probably wouldn’t be welcome back after it was all said and done. Tonight he broke his rules, became the grimy type he hated. Stabbing Grimmer in the back and throwing a wounded man into hell…

He couldn’t sink any lower, really.

Heckel wasn’t surprised in the least to find himself shrouded in fog. This time, he didn’t wait for anyone to speak first. With that squirming sickness still roiling in his gut, shame sinking deeper and deeper in his heart, he fixed his gaze straight ahead.

“I want you to save those kids. Just tell me what you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmmmmmm OOF
> 
> In this AU Heckel really considers Dieter almost like a son...their lil story isn't close enough to the narrative of this fic but like he was the one who saved Dieter in the first place and has always been especially doting to him so they're extra close :( tis ouch to see him hurt
> 
> Also as an aside I've been playing a lot with particular language used for describing nature! Especially the wind. The wind is almost a whole character of its own that is particularly affectionate towards angels (regardless of affiliation) but also expresses when nature as a whole is unwell. It's the first clue that Johan might be an angel from a few chapters ago.
> 
> There are (probably) 2 more chapters left, maybe 3 if I have to extend one. So you know shit's boutta hit the fan!


	11. Inner Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wound up splitting this chapter in half (again...lmao). Nothing too grim happens but there's a pretty trippy scene halfway through.

To many, angels were seen as miraculous entities; beings touched by magic, whose very presence brought luck and whose feathers brought fortune.

Tenma knew there were no such _miracles_. Anything that seemed to be so miraculous was a deliberate action on the part of someone involved. So when Dieter and the other children miraculously seemed to recover in the coming days, despite how fragile they had become, it did very little to placate the angel.

The gentle, seething sorrow of the wind had faded, but there was still a faint hollowness to its sound. Tenma still felt the faint angelic aura that had surrounded them. And of course, while the _boys_ were beginning to recover, Grimmer still bore the weight of the supernatural disease. 

It was not _miraculous_ that the boys recovered, but a deliberate choice. He could make a few guesses as to why. Keeping that energy too widespread lessened its potency; turning it all on a single target, on Grimmer, would hasten its effects.

Grimmer was the intended target. And he was growing weak.

“You've had that same troubled face for days. Do I look that awful?”

Perhaps courtesy of being a naturally talkative person, Grimmer still at least seemed to have no problems communicating with Tenma, not at all like the boys. He looked miserable, but he also looked coherent. Maybe there was more to be said for Grimmer’s constitution and ability to “fight through” sickness after all.

Tenma shook his head, clasping his hands in his lap and staring down at his feet, away from Grimmer. The man sat up a little, quirking a brow as he managed to get himself upright. Tenma didn’t particularly think he should be trying to get up and walk around, or even sit up like that, but at the very least he needed to get his blood circulating, even in small ways. He looked Tenma over with a tired smile. Tenma could see through it, could see how exhausted he was.

“I've felt worse. I don't think it's that bad yet. But there's only one way this ends, right?”

Tenma tilted his head, glancing toward the other man. That sense of dread was back, uncomfortable, unsure. Grimmer’s own expression had mellowed, a little more humble now. There was a bitter feeling about the smile that he gave, something that couldn't be seen in the expression itself, but somehow felt nonetheless.

“It’s probably going to kill me. In the end, I’m the real threat. Refocusing all that energy just on me…”

He shrugged a shoulder, smirking wryly. “If he kills me first, capturing you will be easier.”

Tenma squeezed his hands together, lowering his head into a bow as he inhaled slowly, letting it out in a painful, shuddering sigh.

He...knew that.

Of course he knew that.

Tenma swallowed, his jaw setting in a firm line. It wasn’t a difficult conclusion to draw, and one that he had come to himself. But hearing it from Grimmer…

The blonde braced his hands behind him as he started trying to stand, Tenma letting out a shocked, half-choked sound as he moved to stop Grimmer from his attempted rise. There was only brief resistance, but one look to Tenma’s eyes halted the man. There was no gentle complacency as there normally was, but a stronger look of firmness in those gold hues. Grimmer was _not_ in a state to be up and about, not the way things were now. Tenma’s grip on his shoulders slackened slightly. But only _slightly._

“Right now you need to stay put. If there’s something that I can get for you, just tell me.”

Grimmer made a face, but after a while, opted to lie himself back again as instructed.

“So I suppose I’m not allowed to make you tea for a while.”

He knew that Grimmer was just trying to lighten the mood, but it did nothing to cheer up the angel. He didn’t know how long they had, or what was going to happen to Grimmer in that time, and that scared him. He didn’t _want_ anything to happen to Grimmer, or to the boys, or to anyone else. But he knew that it wasn't going to stop, and the only way...the only way that it could be lifted was if he…

He didn’t want to go back there. He _couldn’t_ go back there. 

On the surface, it was a textbook exchange; go willingly to Lord Heinemann and the people he cared about would suffer no longer. But Tenma wasn't a child. He had faith in humans as a whole, but he knew better than to trust the word of one so corrupt. If they were to steal his power, then Grimmer would be killed regardless. And he knew...even if he were to make that choice, if he tried to leave...

Grimmer wouldn't let him. Not like this. He was the sort of person who wouldn't accept that sort of self-sacrifice in his name.

But he couldn't just accept...that there was _nothing_ he could do.

Fingers brushed the back of his hand, making soft lines against the skin. Tenma took a deep breath, slowly looking up to meet Grimmer’s eyes through a veil of bangs. The idle smile was gone, his expression much more sincere now than before, and a little apologetic.

“I shouldn’t be saying that sort of thing, I think. Not when you’re so worried.”

Normally those moments of kind contact helped to soothe him, gave him something grounding. But right now, Tenma only felt an even deeper dread, because he knew...the longer Grimmer was left like this, the faster it would progress.

He gripped that hand with a somewhat firm hold of his own, trying to fill his lungs with air despite the choking feeling that had built up in his throat. He closed his eyes, concentrating on just breathing. Like before, like what Grimmer had told him, just… _breathe._ It seemed to work, after just a little while. Grimmer hadn’t said anything, but he could probably tell that there was something on Tenma’s mind. He squeezed Grimmer’s hand once, just slightly.

“I want to try.”

No, not enough.

“I _have_ to try.”

The look that Grimmer gave him was uncertain, a little guarded. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tenma shook his head.

“We’ve run out of time to look for any alternatives. If we continue to do _nothing,_ you’re going to die. And then they’re going to attack. And they’ll probably…”

He squeezed Grimmer’s hand again.

“I’m not giving myself in. I won’t go back. But I know...that so long as I can't fly, I won't make it on my own. You're the only person I trust right now. And that’s why I have to try.”

Grimmer stayed quiet for a moment, before he finally nodded, his eyes closing.

“I’m not really in any position to argue. But don't...”

There it was again, that brush of contact.

"Don't push yourself past your limit. Not for me."

He gave no answer to the cautionary plea.

Tenma closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. If he tried, if he concentrated, he could still feel the ebb and flow, the gentle pulse of energy still within him. He traced his fingers along Grimmer’s arm, able to feel that opposing force, flowing through the taller man's veins. He traced down to his hand, interlocking their fingers, gripping tightly so he could feel Grimmer’s palm against his own. 

He could feel something pulling at his mind, tugging, and let himself settle into that feeling. With his eyes closed, it felt like he was floating. He could feel something pulling at him, trying to pull him down. Opening his eyes, Tenma pushed himself up, first sitting, then standing. Breaking the surface was hard, like fighting a current. But looking around...wherever he was now, it wasn't anywhere familiar.

He found himself standing in a void. The air pulsed now and then with colour - light, faint blue, dark purple, red. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but the colours shifted and pulsed with the feeling that coursed through him. Whatever it was, it cast no light, and didn’t reflect against his surroundings. Looking down, Tenma could see nothing but black. And he could feel it - like a thick, viscous liquid that tried to crawl along his flesh. It held fast to his legs, slithering in a way that almost made it seem alive.

In the middle of the void was Grimmer, lying submerged in the blackness. And standing over him, on his other side…

It was hard to tell who, or what, that person was. Their form wavered, rippling and pure, brilliant white. It was blinding to look at, but just as the pulses of light around them, nothing seemed to reflect, as though all light was simply swallowed by their surroundings. Tenma couldn’t see eyes to know, but somehow he felt watched by that spectral figure. 

Tenma walked towards Grimmer. Trying to move was difficult, as though the black...water?...hoped to hold him in place. It pulled away from his legs with a sick, sucking sound as Tenma waded toward his friend. That blackish...no, not water, he didn’t know what...was knitting itself in fleshy ropes like a cocoon around Grimmer, slowly dragging him down.

This was probably...what it looked like inside. What was happening to him.

Tenma reached out, reached for Grimmer. He tried to pull him free, but the black sludge held firm. He tried to claw through it, but couldn't find purchase; it seemed to melt along with his grasp, reshaping itself to avoid his efforts to pull it apart.

_”He’s going to die. You should let him go.”_

The voice was soft, crystal clear but unnatural. Tenma looked up toward that blinding figure and narrowed his eyes, standing tall despite the pull from below.

_”I won’t do that.”_

The shape flickered, and the blackness seemed to grow agitated, wrapping itself around Grimmer with a greater fervor, once more trying to snare Tenma.

_”You won’t, or you can’t? Are you afraid of what will happen? Doesn't that mean he's holding you back?”_

Afraid…

Of course he was afraid. But that wasn’t a bad thing, or shameful. It just meant that Grimmer...Grimmer was someone _important_. Someone he didn’t want to lose. He’d said as much himself. And right now, that fear...that became fuel. Being afraid gave him strength. 

Gold hues turned unflinchingly on that blinding, warping spectre.

_”It’s not weak to be afraid. I’m scared to lose him, so I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that I don’t.”_

The air around them brightened, shimmering blue as a familiar wave of energy flowed through him, the comforting sensation of his own power taking shape in his mind. He felt it first in his wings, a surge that crackled in the atmosphere around them. And as he watched, the spectral figure who stood opposite to him seemed to sprout wings of his own, glowing, for a moment, even more brilliantly than before.

In a way, it was like two opposing waves crashing against one another; Tenma could feel it like he was hitting something solid, that gentle warmth coursing through his wings becoming an uncomfortable, jittery tingle. He was knocked back from the force of the colliding waves, but it wasn’t enough to win, as black tides swept back once more to swallow Grimmer deeper into the dark. 

_”You’re fighting the inevitable. Would you waste your meagre power on a man whose fate has been decided? Can't you find a better way to use it?”_

It was easy for the spectral angel to claim something fated when it happened to his liking. But Tenma...couldn’t accept that end. He had power...he still had power within him. He didn’t know if it was enough, but for Grimmer...he had to _believe_ that it was.

Tenma concentrated on compacting his energy. Releasing it in a wild, untamed wave wasn't enough; what he needed was something smaller and more concentrated, something that could punch through that darkness.

“It's all right. It's okay. Remember to breathe…”

Grimmer’s voice sounded through the air, reverberating around him. It was strange, Tenma heard it but he sounded far away. Almost like that one time, when he’d woken from that dream. Grimmer was the one who had been able to reach him, with words of encouragement, with the kind feeling his voice brought.

Tenma allowed that warmth to push him on, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

_”I won’t accept your fate. I can’t, not for him.”_

The spectre tilted its head, flickering again. Ropes of that sickly blackness bubbled up, turning into a film that spread and covered over Grimmer completely.

_”Why? What is it about him that makes you so determined?”_

Tenma gave pause.

Why...?

It wasn’t fear this time that drove him, that charged him. It was there, of course, but there was more; desperation, determination, anger..admiration of all that Grimmer had done, the fondness he felt for him. All of those things together boiled that energy inside him, transformed it into something greater. It hissed as it touched the sick blackness that threatened to suffocate his friend.

 _Why..._ why he couldn't let Grimmer die like this...Tenma recalled his time imprisoned. How they had kept him docile with that parasite. "Grimmer" could have been anyone, with any intentions. Tenma had no means to defend himself like that; anyone could have used that to their advantage, but Grimmer...hadn’t. He had removed that parasite from beneath his skin, had allowed him to regain his strength, had helped him to recover.

Now Tenma...could do the same for him.

Those thoughts, those convictions, gave his own power a boost. If it was a battle of wills, then his was ironclad; the same way that he refused so vehemently to fall, he wouldn’t let Grimmer slip away. With one push...with just one last push he would drive the presence of the second angel away.

He could feel it, this time - the gradual pushback, as his energy corroded the plaguing sickness. It felt less like a wave that time, instead taking the form of something hotter, fiercer. Almost like acid, it seemed to sear the blackness away from Grimmer, melting it away but leaving him untouched. It burned like fire, hot enough to make Tenma feel nauseous. He swayed a little, spots dancing behind his eyelids as the wave passed.

There was something strange this time; he could feel as his final burst of energy detached itself from him, almost like it was peeling away from his very being, layers of something intangible melting away from the angel at his core.

As Tenma watched, the spectral angel himself was coming undone. That golden sheen of his started to peel and melt, unraveling from him as though he were shedding a second skin. Those brilliant golden wings deformed and melted completely into nothing, swallowed by the blackness below. All that was left of the angel was the same black sludge that surrounded them, vaguely humanoid in shape. 

_”I’m surprised. I didn’t think that you could do it. Does he mean that much to you?”_

Its voice came more softly now, wispy, fading in and out as the angel lost its composure completely. Its shape bubbled and deteriorated, leaving nothing behind, not that he could feel at least. Tenma took a slow, deep breath.

Glancing down, the murky sludge had been replaced with water, crystal clear, reflecting those gentle pulses of light. With a heaved sigh, Tenma moved toward Grimmer, gripping him under the arms and pulling him back, away from the deeper water, to the shallows where he had been standing. The pulses of light slowed, slowed until they stopped completely, leaving them in the utter dark. He let himself slip backward, so that he was sitting in the water, Grimmer resting in his arms. He let himself be lulled by the calm for just a moment.

Holding Grimmer now, Tenma no longer felt that sickly energy coursing through him.

But neither could he feel the familiar flow of his own. No longer could he see it, when he concentrated.

Tenma opened his eyes when he felt something brush against his cheek. Realized that he wasn’t sitting up, that he had at some point fallen, and that Grimmer was supporting him, talking to him. He couldn't hear words, but his lips were moving, and he seemed worried. Tenma blinked slowly, his senses starting to return as he refocused on the world around him. Everything was...murky, just a little unclear, but he could see and hear and feel.

He picked himself up slowly, still just a little dizzy, a little numb. Standing seemed to help ground him again, though he kept a hand on Grimmer's shoulder to keep his balance. He managed a thin, tired smile.

“It worked.”

A beat.

“I’m okay.”

He certainly didn’t _sound_ okay, even to his own ears. He swallowed thickly, then tried to meet Grimmer’s eyes.

“I was able to get rid of it. But I don’t think I’ll be able to do something like that for a while.”

Grimmer’s hand - still clutched tightly in his own - squeezed lightly. It brought at least a little sense of comfort.

“You’ve done more than enough. You can rest now. It’s okay to rest now.”

Tenma smiled, his wings fluffing just a little. They felt...light, lighter than they had in a long time. Maybe...in that show of his own power, that confidence...he had started on the right path. That feeling, like something intangible peeled away from his wings...maybe it was finally starting. Maybe his spirit could...finally heal.

He was going to get better. Everything really was going to be okay.

He would be okay.

Grimmer hummed, the sound catching him by surprise, still somewhat muddled and murky in his ears.

“You know, I was right after all.”

Tenma blinked down, attention returning to Grimmer. He had a silly look on his face, a devious little smirk that he only maintained for a few seconds before his eyes closed again.

“You really do have a wonderful smile.”

Tenma glanced away, his lips quirking into a small smirk of their own accord.

“Is it really the time for that...?”

Grimmer chuckled in answer, though didn’t make any quip in response. He seemed exhausted, but this time in a normal sort of way, just….tired.

Tenma was a little tired too, but he needed air. He needed to feel it, to be sure that there really was nothing left of that other angel’s energy.

He let his hand slip from Grimmer’s as he made his way out into the night, keeping at a slower pace, still just a little dizzy if he moved too quickly. He could feel the gentle kiss of the breeze against his face, a comforting sensation that had none of its prior urgency. The threat, it seemed, had left the Glade. Tenma sighed into the wind, and it in turn tousled his hair, blowing it into his eyes.

“So, he any better?” 

The sudden voice caught Tenma off guard and he turned sharply, pressing a hand to his chest when he realized it was only Heckel.

He should have heard the other man on his approach. But then, with the amount of energy he’d just expended, he could only imagine what condition he was in now. He really was running on empty, if he couldn’t even hear Heckel coming up behind him. The man frowned, narrowing his eyes.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

Tenma drew in a slow breath, letting it out as he relaxed.

“Grimmer will be fine. It’s just…”

He hesitated, but only briefly. In the past, he might have been unsure of revealing any sort of vulnerabilities to Heckel, but during the last week, he had come to appreciate the man just a little more. He was crude...but cared deeply for those dear to him.

“I had to use a lot of energy to do it. So I’m a little out of it. I didn’t hear you coming.”

Heckel relaxed, crossing his arms and leveling him with a somewhat unimpressed look.

“Then I’m guessin’ ya shouldn’t be on yer feet huh.”

“No.”

Heckel blinked at his prompt and earnest response, then just chuckled, waving a hand dismissively.

“You ain’t one a those kids, so I ain’t gonna police ya to do anythin’. I’m on my way out anyway so if ya faint, you’re on your own.”

He said it jokingly, and Tenma found himself smiling despite himself. He glanced up, then back to Heckel with his own little smirk.

“Not looting, I hope.”

The man waved him off with a shrug.

“Ya kiddin’? I’m a stand up kinda guy. Just doin’ a perimiter check.” He made it sound innocent, before turning a sly little grin on the angel.

“‘Sides. Figured you ‘n Grimmer might wanna be left alone. Nursin' him back to health 'n all that.”

There was an unmistakable eyebrow waggle that had Tenma turning his face away, though not quickly enough to hide the flush on his cheeks. Heckel had most certainly won.

With a last little snicker, the man disappeared into the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that whole Tenma vs Johan angel thing was like a weird blend of Stranger Things/Evangelion influence...in case the latter wasn't obvious, lmao. Tenma got to be awesome though, which was nice. Too bad it's not over yet...
> 
> Originally a lot worse stuff was planned for this chapter but you were spared.....you just get it next chapter :)


	12. Man Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for scenes of fairly descriptive violence, discussion of torture, and some really creepy Johan.

It was, admittedly, a surprise that the angel had managed to purify the sickness placed within the master of the glade.

Heckel's boys had been spared the same wretched fate, as promised, but Grimmer had been left to the illness - as a precaution, to ensure that Heckel was well enough aware that he could turn that plague back on each and every one of them. Though, it served a secondary purpose; it was certainly _tempting_ to an angel, still bound by the moral high ground, to rid evils from those less fortunate. With only one ill host, it became a less daunting task, more appealing to a weakened angel. What a way to reduce the angel's defenses to zero than to have him spend that energy willingly. Johan had thought himself at least a little clever for it.

He had taken the bait, certainly, but he had surpassed the fallen's expectations. The aim was to force the angel's hand, to consume what little energy he had left. And while that had succeeded, it had been more than Johan could handle. His own energy had been cannibalized, burned by the unexpected vigor of the wounded dove. Mighty though his taint was in the face of mere humans, he was truly feeble in the face of angels. At the peak of his power, the angel of the glade held dominion over life and death; to that, Johan was nothing.

Even now he could feel the sting in his wings, a reminder to him that, even weakened, even at the brink of his own fall, Grimmer's angel was a powerful creature. 

In the end, Johan took his wounds with grace; after all, he had all he wanted. Though it was a magnificent display of the angel's power, it would be the last for some time; he had given his all for the sake of that human. That was something that certainly intrigued the fallen. For an angel to give so much in the name of a _human..._

"He's the one that grounds you, then." he breathed, murmuring to no one but the wind. There was only a hushed whisper in response.

If he had grounded himself with such a strong connection, it was no wonder he still held on, refusing to fall despite his terrible hardship. But he had chosen foolishly; opening his heart created a weakness in himself, a vulnerability. One that Johan planned to exploit to realize his Lord's wishes.

His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of his dear accomplice, still ever reluctant, but obedient so long as the lives of those children were on the line. To care for anyone at all was to expose oneself to weakness. To think that heartfelt care would be what tore the cobbled woodland family apart.

"He's weak, like ya said. Don't know how long it'll stay that way. Whatever it is ya want it better happen soon."

Johan didn't turn to face him, but stood a little taller, hands clasped in front of him calmly.

"And you're sure that he'll trust you, when the time comes?"

Even without turning he could _feel_ the guilt that permeated from the little man. There was something satisfying in observing humans as they were cut to pieces by the cracks of their own hearts. 

"Yeah I'm sure."

It was the voice of a man resigned to his purpose. Johan finally turned, nodding with a small smile that bore the charm of a false kindness.

"Then, you know what's to be done. Be sure that when the Lord's men arrive, their passage is smooth. I've already given you my word that your boys will not be harmed. But if you fail to hold your end of our deal, then-"

"I know. Ya don't gotta tell me. Just get outta here 'n let me do my job."

Johan halted, mildly surprised at the sudden antagonism of the foul thief, though it more entertained than anything else. He closed his eyes, nodding solemnly. Johan turned back toward the fog, but halted just as it began to swallow him into its misty depths, glancing over his shoulder.

"You made the right choice. Had you not have come to me, most would be dead by tomorrow morning. You saved their lives at the price of only one."

He carved that guilt deeper, deeper. Let him feel the shame of his path under the false pretense of praise.

The atmosphere, as the fallen left, remained heavy and sick.

* * *

The night and day that followed were both peaceful and serene, as much as they could be. There was little activity within the Glade, the children much more behaved, not quite the untamed wildlings they oft were. The adults for their part were in a seemingly perpetual state of exhaustion, mentally or physically, or some combination of both. There was no sign of the threats that had plagued them, a calm sense of comfort falling over them once more.

But it was a calm that fell too soon. Too soon under the watchful gaze of those who knew the precise moment that their guard was let down.

Swift and silent were Lord Heinemann's men, the Glade saved only by the swifter senses of its master.

At the break of dawn, before the sun had begun to rise in earnest, Tenma woke to frantic jostling at his shoulder and the feeling of a hand covering over his mouth. 

The latter caused his heart to leap into his throat in panic, at least until his eyes opened and he recognized the face above him. Grimmer had a finger pressed to his lips, shaking his head subtly as he slowly let go of the angel, lowering so he could whisper in a much quieter voice.

"I'm sorry for that. You wouldn't wake, and I didn't want you to shout. Right now we're..."

His gaze turned out, away from Tenma. There was an atmosphere of urgency as he addressed the angel, though Tenma could gather the situation for himself just by reading the way his friend looked at him.

"They're coming for you. We need to move. They already made it past the perimeter. There's no time."

Tenma really should have known not to expect peace. In the wake of what had been an important victory, he might have hoped that they had shown some sort of strength despite the danger that they faced, but instead it seemed they had opened themselves as targets. It was a tactically wise move; the others were still recovering from a deathly sickness, and Tenma had rendered himself incredibly weak destroying it.

There was no defending themselves like this. The way they were now, they were ill prepared for direct combat with professional killers. That meant going into hiding. They were good at that, at hiding, at using traps and trickery to outwit bandits and bounty hunters.

They moved as swiftly as they could, though as Grimmer said, there wasn't much time. Everyone gathered at the oak, Grimmer and Heckel taking numbers to make sure that everyone was accounted for. With haste the children were divided into four groups, each of whom went ahead, leaving the adults to take the rear and wait until the boys had reached a safe place, keeping an eye out for their enemies. They hadn't made it this deep into the woodland, but with how quickly they'd bypassed their first line of defense, there was no telling how much time was left.

Tenma...felt incredibly vulnerable.

Until now, he could hear the approach of intruders long before they would have reached the perimeter. Now, he was only as perceptive as an average human, still drained physically and mentally from his actions days ago. He couldn't keep his eyes in one place, darting back and forth, watching every shift in the trees with wary uncertainty.

The feeling of a hand on his shoulder - a familiar hand, one that he trusted - brought some small semblance of stability to the angel. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as Grimmer stood by him, offering what little comfort he could with that touch. But there was more to it than simple comfort; he could feel it, that urgency again, a need to speak. And speak he did.

“I don't think you're going to like this, but I need you to do something for me. I think it's important that you do it.”

Grimmer's voice was assuring and soft, but that gave the angel no sense of calm, not this time. He felt the first spark of dread settle as he turned to look him in the eye. The man brought his hand up from Tenma's shoulder, instead tucking the angel's hair behind his ear. There was earnestness and worry in his eyes.

"If something were to happen...if something were to go wrong...you _can't_ be here. They can't find you here. I've talked about it before, about heading to the west..."

Tenma...knew where this was going. He already...

"Someone has to stay behind to make sure the boys are safe. I'm definitely the best person to do that. So if you could...I want you to go with Heckel. He'll be able to protect you, if anyone were to find you. Right now...this is the last place you should be."

Tenma's mouth opened and shut twice, words not quite coming to him. He didn't like the idea - not because of Heckel, but simply because that feeling of dread only grew at the notion of leaving Grimmer here alone with the boys. The man offered a small smile, seemingly trying to set aside his worries, though to minimal effect.

"I've lived here several decades. I'll manage on my own. All I have to do is make sure they don't find our boys. I'll be just fine. It's _you_ we should be worried about. You're the one they want."

Tenma...let that sink in for a moment. He knew they didn't have much time, and...truthfully, if something _did_ happen...there was a higher likelihood of the others surviving if Tenma wasn't there to be caught. He didn't want to think about it, but there was a chance they would be used to bait him, or questioned for his whereabouts. If he was simply discovered amidst the boys here, there was no telling if they would survive. They needed...to make sure that everyone survived. And if this was the safest option...

After a short few moments he nodded, closing his eyes and leaning forward, embracing Grimmer briefly, but tightly. As he pulled back, there was a look they shared, a look reflected in blue and gold.

_Be careful._

Heckel wasted no time, taking the lead as the pair made their exit through the west of the woods. With only the two of them, it was easier to stay hidden. He was swift, moved carefully between the trees, keeping an eye out for anyone who might do them harm. It felt like that first time, when Grimmer had led him along when they were attacked by bandits. Tenma could feel his heart hammering in his chest, an ugly feeling bubbling in his stomach, making it churn. 

He didn’t like it, not being able to rely on his own senses. Heckel was capable enough, perhaps even more so than Grimmer, but the senses of an angel were far superior even to a well trained human. It felt like he was running blind and deaf.

“You ain’t hearin’ anythin’ are ya? Still all...y'know?”

“Nothing. It’s going to take some time.”

Heckel made a softly displeased noise, shaking his head.

“Well, then, c’mon. Just stay quiet n follow.”

He kept them where the trees were dense, where it was harder to detect movement even to the skilled eye. Tenma focused on just following Heckel’s every move, nimble and quick and staying out of sight. Without his senses, as far as Tenma was concerned, there could be someone around any corner. The way the shadows moved, forming humanoid shapes, he couldn't help but feel just a little frantic.

So when he _did_ hear a crunch, he stopped dead.

Heckel seemed to notice when he faltered, glancing over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. He looked on edge; could probably feel it too, that someone was watching them. Tenma edged a little closer, his wings twitching just a little in agitation.

"I think...just now..."

Tenma spoke quietly, jerking his head in the direction of the sound. Heckel said nothing, just kept pushing forward. Speaking so low, it was likely the man hadn't heard him. Of all the times for him to go unheard...

"Heckel." He tried again, just a little louder. "I think...there might..."

Another crunch, this time from his other side.

Heckel, too, had come to a stop, now. He turned toward Tenma and gazed up with a look he'd never seen on the smaller man before. There was something pained, something apologetic. Something _wrong._

From just beyond where he stood, shadows started detaching themselves from trees, black shapes moving forward. Tenma took a step back, that dread becoming a physical manifestation, the feeling of lead in his stomach weighing him down. Heckel still wasn’t moving. He just stood there. He just stood there as men stepped out from the shadows all around them.

_What is it you've done? What have you done...?_

He knew what it was. He didn't need an explanation. This...this was a trap. 

He felt his heart pounding in his chest again. Louder, faster than before.

_Did Grimmer....?_

No.

The look in his eyes....the look in Heckel's....they weren't the same. Grimmer's had held urgency, the need for him to leave, to escape. Heckel's....

His eyes held an apology. An apology for... 

Heckel...had given him up. Had probably convinced Grimmer...that he had to be the one to go with Tenma. And then...

Tenma took another step backward, futile though it was as he found himself surrounded.

One of the men stepped forward, smiling thinly as he stared the angel down. It was a face Tenma recognized. Old, wizened, with a complacent serenity in his eyes that never felt right behind those round spectacles. Capek...he was no soldier, but he had been directly involved in the treatments Tenma was subjected to while imprisoned. He had a calm countenance about him, but that only served to drive Tenma’s anxiousness higher, choking in his throat.

He couldn’t even find it in himself to back away, even as that man approached, drawing nearer, staring deeply into his wide, wide eyes. A crinkly smile lit upon his lips. 

“Hello again, dove.”

* * *

Exactly how the noble guard had made it so far into the Glade without encountering any of their traps was something Grimmer still couldn't quite grasp. 

It seemed as though they had managed to enter without any form of resistance, as though they'd known what to look for. Heckel took care keeping the glade well guarded; for them to have circumvented his efforts was more than a little alarming. Much further now and the danger became greater to the boys; the Glade had several places to hide from even professional huntsmen, but these were men with purpose; they wouldn't simply get bored and turn tail without finding their prey.

If he at least could put up a fight, that wouldn’t matter. This was his territory, after all; he knew it far better than any wayward soldier. But with his mind filled with fog and his body still sluggish and uncooperative, he simply couldn’t defend them as he normally would.

He had to try, at the very least. For the sake of the boys.

Keeping out of sight in the underbrush allowed him to stalk the soldiers at a distance. He saw six, but there were probably more; quite often they split their numbers. More likely there were others, scattered elsewhere throughout the glade. Or waiting to provide reinforcements.

Most would take the first opportunity while the soldiers’ backs were to him as a chance to strike, but Grimmer exercised yet more patience. The second he exposed himself, they would all turn on him. He needed to act more carefully, choose his targets wisely. 

He waited until there was a slight stagger in their form. Direct path through the glade or not, they were still moving through dense woodland that made it difficult to stay together at all times. That offered Grimmer his perfect opportunity. Swift and nimble, he acted while their guard was down, targeting the nearest soldier, who had stepped a touch too close to the thick undergrowth that hid the master of these woods.

He wasn’t callous nor coward enough to stab the man in the back, instead dragging him down into the foliage with one arm around his middle and the other around his throat, the both of them now wrestling in the dirt. There would be no cry for help nor a struggle; the man certainly writhed and writhed and fought his best fight, but this was not Grimmer’s first encounter with their likeness; he knew well enough how to restrain a man, certainly one smaller than himself.

He relaxed his hold only when the smaller man wilted in his arms, unconscious and unseen.

Five left, from the central group. Grimmer took to his silent stalking once more, doing his best to usher them away from the many hideaways that housed the children. By the sounds from up ahead, it seemed that he wasn’t the only one attempting to divert the soldiers; he could hear the rush further ahead - someone was there, using is preferred technique to fabricate the sound of movement through the woods. Doubtless the healthier of the boys saw fit to disobey his wish that they stay hidden and try their part to protect their family and their forest.

They would be scolded appropriately, in due time. Well-meaning though it was, there were times those boys behaved just a little too recklessly. Though, it did offer Grimmer an advantage. The soldiers' attention was now split - between the sudden disappearance of one of their men, and the scattered movement from amidst the trees.

He charged his second target, yanking him back into the undergrowth much the same way as he had the first, though this time his foe provided just a bit of difficulty; he managed to wrestle an arm free, and used it not to scrabble at his throat, but - more effectively - dug at his assailant’s arm with his fingers, enough so that Grimmer’s hold slackened. The man used his newfound ability to breathe first to weaponise the back of his skull, colliding harshly with Grimmer’s nose as the two took their tumble. He could feel and smell the blood on his face, but didn’t allow himself even a second’s hesitation; he doubled up his efforts, putting the both of them into a roll, so that he was now pinning the other man beneath him, using his body to keep the weight on his foe as he once more blocked the man’s windpipe. 

Well...he definitely had something of a headache now. But he’d succeeded. He brought a hand up to touch his nose, and immediately let out a soft hiss, wincing.

“Not a good feeling….”

There wasn’t much he could do about it, though. There were still intruders in their home.

Grimmer kept low as he traced the remaining soldiers. Concentrating was harder, and these four seemed to have realized what was going on. They had eyes in all directions, watching so they weren’t picked off. They’d stopped moving, just held their position. Grimmer did the same; he kept at a crouch, watching from the brambles and waiting for an opportunity to present itself. Against four he wasn’t much of a match. Even with his dagger he’d have to be quick-footed and careful. They were armed for close quarters, so at least he wouldn’t have to worry about an arrow in the back of his neck. 

Of course, there was always another option. He didn’t have to fight them fairly, not entirely.

Soldiers or not, members of the Noble Guard or not, they were human; if Grimmer could wrestle just one of them down, claim a hostage, then he might manage to negotiate their departure. All he needed was one.

Grimmer let out three long whistles. A few seconds passed, and then a barrage of stones came from above. 

It was all he needed.

With those four trying to find the source of the hailing rocks and sticks, the swift-footed master of the Glade went unnoticed, at least until he took his target into a tight grip. Perhaps it was unsportsmanlike, but he chose the smallest and slimmest of the four, the easiest to grapple and hold in place, dagger only inches from his throat. Just like that, the rain of stones ended.

“I suggest,” Grimmer breathed, his voice coming low and not at all in that whimsical airiness that he usually carried, “that the lot of you take your leave. Or else you’ll find I’m not joking.”

The rest of the three certainly faltered, lowering their weapons down to the ground and standing, slowly. Grimmer still didn’t release their friend.

“No, not that. Once more, that’s all I’ll give you. I want the lot of you to--” 

_SHK._

He heard it first. Close. Behind him. 

Then he felt it. 

Something painful. Something in his back. Warm and wet starting to soak his robes. Dizzy. He blinked rapidly, managing somehow to hold onto his hostage, who didn’t dare fight. 

“Left your back open...”

The voice came from behind him. Grimmer didn’t turn, attention on the three men ahead of him. Their weapons were at their feet; if he took his focus away now, they became a greater threat. So long as he held his hostage, he had something. Or so, at least, he thought. The soft chuckle from behind him told him he was wrong.

“You made a mistake, Grimmer of the Glade. Each of us who stands as Heine’s Noble Guard would be glad to die for our lord. This is a battle you've lost.”

_SHK._

Grimmer felt as the blade was thrust deeper, and let out a gurgled, straining sound. No longer could he hold onto his hostage, releasing the man. The soldier fell backward, red staining his torso, though Grimmer couldn’t say how much was from his own injuries, and how much from the blood staining Grimmer. 

Those three retrieved their weapons once more, coming to crouch by their ally’s side. Though certainly not dead, he was a slight young man; a deep wound like that wasn’t something to go untreated.

There was a squelching sound as the blade in Grimmer’s back was pulled away, the man swaying on the spot. Swaying, until he was shoved by one hand, dropping him forward, onto his knees. As soon as he was down, rough hands gripped his shoulders, holding him in place. A horrible sickness filled his gut. He coughed violently, flecks of blood staining the grass beneath him.

Those boys were...watching. They were here, and they were watching. They...

He felt cold metal at the back of his neck, and went completely still.

_Not like this. Not here._

The glade had gone wholly, deathly still. Nothing moved nor made a sound, save for the man who stood above him, gripping that blade.

“You’re lucky that he wants you alive. Or else-”

Grimmer felt the draw of a sharp line against his skin, a silent threat of intent. He only dared to breathe when he no longer felt the blade against his neck, but still wouldn’t move. He knew when he was defeated, knew better than to be rash. But those boys…

“Don’t hurt…” he rasped out, forming words around the blood in his mouth. “...the children. Please d...on't hurt th..........the children.”

His voice came hoarsely, with a pleading edge. One of the soldiers huffed, though Grimmer was too exhausted and disoriented to say which.

“Long as they don’t get in the way, we got all we came for. You _hear that,_ little gremlins?”

There was no answer. No one moved, or - to his surprise - attempted to charge the soldiers to rescue Grimmer. Perhaps they were wiser, more cautious, than he gave them credit for. Or too afraid.

Grimmer’s thoughts were violently interrupted by something blunt, followed by darkness.

"So ends the infamy of Grimmer of the Glade."

* * *

Consciousness was a brief thing; Grimmer flitted in and out of wakefulness, vaguely aware that something now tightly bound his wrists and a cloth-like material was wound around his injury. He found himself wondering vaguely what it was, realizing far later that they had probably dressed the wound to keep him from losing too much blood. They were probably...taking him back then. Only this time, there was no Becker, no one to bail him out.

Grimmer followed along as he was pushed. It was difficult for him to do much more than go through the simple motion of walking; his mind was sluggish and tired, his body was still aching. His awareness faded in and out from clarity to a cotton-filled buzz. He was only barely conscious of his surroundings - though he certainly felt when he was roughly shoved into a holding cell, tumbling onto his side with a grunt. At least it wasn’t the injured one.

He was, now, though, just a little more awake. Enough so that he was able to better process his surroundings. He was most definitely alone, but his was not the only occupied cell; hard though it was to make out, the familiarly tousled blonde hair and portly stature of the man locked opposite to him told an unfortunate tale. It seemed the once-proud member of the Noble Guard had, most likely, been discovered for his traitorous warnings to the Glade. He seemed to be alive, though he bore the look of a man who could neither tell where he was nor know his own name. He simply stared and blinked slowly with vacant, empty eyes.

Under the rulership of the present lord, it was a surprise the man still had his head. But perhaps death was too merciful.

He certainly had to wonder what his own fate would be.

Grimmer sat himself up and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. His side still smarted, and his head was still pretty cloudy from whatever blunt object had been cracked over his skull some time ago. He needed to think. Grimmer wasn’t the sort of man to be _caught_ after all; there was always a way out, an escape.

He had been here before. He knew the corridors, at least well enough to make his exit once he was out of this cage. But _that_ was the tricky part; he was sort of unhelpfully tied at the wrist and, unfortunately, locked in this shoddy little space. It made leaving a bit of a problem.

“I suppose you haven’t got a key on you this time, have you?”

There was no reply, though he couldn’t be sure if Becker had heard or...understood him in the first place. Grimmer just sighed, letting himself settle into silence for now, trying to rest. If he could rest, then perhaps he could think just a bit more clearly.

That, though, was interrupted only moments after he’d found himself in a comfortable daze; the definite sound of footsteps, soft but echoing, had Grimmer opening an eye to greet whatever fellow had come to visit. He could only assume, after all, that it was him they sought.

When he saw that cloaked blond, he found himself smirking wryly, sitting himself up just a little taller, though it pulled painfully against his wound. He watched as the man pulled a key ring from around his neck, beneath the cloak. Grimmer quirked a brow. 

“A personal visit, is it? You should know that even like this, I’m quite dangerous.”

Johan but chuckled in response, an airy and respectably charming sound. He tucked the key ring back away with a smile.

“I imagine not. You look like you’ve seen better days.” he started, stalking slowly closer, his movements altogether deliberately predatory. “And the boys as well, haven’t they?”

Grimmer let his eyes slip closed again, biting down on the dread that started to bubble.

“No thanks to you, I think. Just what sort of angel did you ruin to gain such an ugly power?”

Johan peered down at him with that eerily void expression of his, blinking slowly. He really simply couldn’t be read, though that was probably by design.

“That’s a little disappointing to hear. I’d assumed you might know by now.” 

His tone sounded sincerely dejected. It was that way of talking that he had, so naturally evocative of feeling even when his face remained so stolid. He took one hand to his chest, slowly tracing up along his cloak until he’d found the clasp. His gaze shot forward abruptly, sharp with some unknown intent. All Grimmer knew was that it sent a chill down his spine.

“It’s time, I think, to be honest with you. It may answer a few of your nagging questions.”

With those silken words, the young man plucked at the clasp, the heavy material falling away. He wore a white tunic beneath, his skin deathly pale from lack of sun. But what caught Grimmer’s attention, what he couldn’t take his eyes from, were the wings.

Pure ebony and jutting from his back, there was no mistake now. 

Grimmer...he'd had it backwards. He had assumed the angelic ‘feeling’ that Tenma sensed was, perhaps, stolen from the first angel caught within Heinemann’s clutches.

But as Johan turned, it was made ever so clear that those wings most certainly belonged to him.

The angel had lent his power willingly.

Grimmer opened his mouth with intent to speak, but found his voice had been sucked away, his thoughts stuck in a loop of processing as he tried to grasp just what had been presented to him now.

Tenma had once said that there was no familiarity among angels; that their lives were solitary, individual. Even so, for one to willfully choose...to knowingly cast another of their kind into the hands of those who would torture him…to assist _his own_ tormentors...

Johan dropped down to one knee in a single, graceful move. He was close now, closer than was particularly comfortable to Grimmer, but he was still too awestruck, too shocked, to respond as he usually might.

“Does it surprise you so much? Is it so hard to believe?”

The dark-winged angel simply stood forward in his crouch, peering unblinkingly into Grimmer’s eyes. He could do little more than stare back in his own state of shock. A small, almost sad little smile flitted across the angel’s lips and he reached forward, ghosting the bruised side of Grimmer’s face with his fingertips. It was enough to snap Grimmer out of his daze and turn away.

“I want you to take a good look, mister Grimmer. This is what an angel looks like when he falls.”

Grimmer shook his head slowly, still not quite able to form words just yet. The angel... _fallen_ angel...continued, seemingly quite happy to have the chance to speak freely now.

“If I’m to be honest, I was terribly weak. Nothing like _your_ angel. I was quick to turn. You could never imagine the pain...humans are lucky, you know. You’ll never experience the terrors of being hunted, maimed and tortured for the would-be benefit of others. It was laughably easy to tarnish my feathers. I would have done anything to end it.”

He took his index finger beneath Grimmer’s chin, lifting his face slowly as he himself rose to his feet once more, staring down with those bored, yet magnificent eyes of a stellar blue. 

“The merciful Lord Heinemann offered me an escape, and I took it. All I had to do was lend him my powers, and deliver your angel into his hands. Of course, even now, I’m not able to leave. Not until my task is completed. Our Lord made very sure of that.”

He turned his back to Grimmer then, flaring his wings halfway. Grimmer could see where the angel’s flight feathers had been clipped, effectively hindering from any attempts at escape. Even if he no longer suffered the same agony that Tenma had, this angel remained a prisoner to Lord Heinemann. It was no wonder he wore that cloak; doubtless only a select few knew just who, and what, he was. 

Grimmer...didn’t know what to say. What he possibly _could_ say.

“In the past, I wasn’t so different from your angel. Not nearly as powerful, of course. I was far less talented. I could purify poisons and disease. Paltry tricks, compared to his greatness.” 

Johan's wings folded behind his back once more, and he crouched to pick up his cloak, settling it back upon his shoulders.

“All I can do now is feed that very corruption into the world. Though it’s come in handy, as you might imagine. There’s really no way to subdue an angel as powerful as him, if not by the hand of another of his kind.”

Brilliant blues turned back on Grimmer, a curious glint there.

“But you could attest to that yourself, I think. After all, you to carried that curse, for a time.”

Grimmer opened his mouth, then closed it. He had never thought of that...hadn’t once considered the possibility that his affliction was in any way related to what Tenma had endured. When he first rescued the angel, he had been all but comatose, a state caused by some sort of strange "parasite" as he had called it, embedded beneath the skin. Grimmer...certainly hadn’t noticed any unusual contusions in his own skin to assume that their afflictions might be related. Johan nodded slowly, walking around behind Grimmer now, with that same stalking pace. Grimmer tensed, just a little unnerved now that the fallen angel was out of sight.

“The application is different, but it's the very same. I've simply refined it. Instead of a parasite underneath the skin that draws on its host’s energy, it’s much much smaller and slower to afflict its prey. It enters through the pores…”

The man traced a line down Grimmer’s arm and he felt himself freeze. It was like something was crawling into his skin, like it was squirming through his blood. Johan let his fingertips draw back up along the same path, delicate and gentle in a way that somehow felt sharp to Grimmer.

Johan stepped away, circling back in front with his hands clasped calmly. 

“You became the carrier the moment we shook hands. You should have thought more carefully. That was a mistake. You brought quite an ugly disease into the glade. But your angel was able to cure it, wasn’t he? I never expected him to have enough power, in that state. I can still feel it, like an aftershock..."

He trailed off, looking over Grimmer slowly, with a bemused menace in his eyes.

"It’s a shame you let your body suffer so much abuse. After all he risked for your sake, you look absolutely awful.”

The man crouched in front of him, that serene smile still upon his lips. He reached into a pouch at his side, pulling out a small, corked vial. The fluid inside was watery, and deep red in colour. 

“I could give you a bit of this. That would make you feel much better. But…” He tilted his head, turning the vial idly in his hand. “I don’t think you’d like that, would you?”

Even through a fogged mind, Grimmer knew exactly what Johan was holding. And almost immediately, he felt his blood turn to ice. 

Heckel had been the one to tell him about it - the use of angel blood in certain elixirs and medicines, possessing some sort of healing property. Even if it could heal him...this...this was something that had been produced through cruel means. Exploiting Tenma...he couldn’t ever use something like that. He wouldn’t accept it.

Grimmer shook his head, setting his jaw as he stared forward. Johan hummed, putting the vial back in his pouch.

“He never felt a thing, you know. Not for this. It’s already helped us design several antidotes and healing accelerants like this one. It's saved many lives. Even knowing that, you _still_ won’t have it, will you?” 

No answer was given. Johan turned his head away, glancing outward and away from Grimmer.

“It won’t matter, I suppose. Your angel will be joining us soon, and then you’ll be executed. That should be enough to break his spirit.”

Time seemed to stand still right then, that horrible sickness returning, churning, twisting.

All Grimmer could do was stare. Stare, because there was no way that could possibly be true. After all, Tenma was…

Heckel. He was...they were...

“Your friend was quite reluctant to agree to my terms, but in the end, he understood the direness of the situation. Without me, each of you would simply fade away, your bodies rotting themselves from the inside. He saved your family. So please, don't blame him. It was you who should have been more careful.”

Johan reached out, placing a consoling hand on Grimmer’s shoulder. His eyes seemed sympathetic and kind, almost genuine in their apologetic glimmer.

“I hate to be the one to tell you, but your old friend delivered you to us himself. He gave Lord Heinemann’s forces a way in. And of your angel…”

Grimmer shook his head slowly. Johan closed his pretty blue eyes and turned away. 

“You may have been swift to send him away, but he’s already been caught, I’m afraid. He’ll be in our grasp in hours.”

Couldn’t be.

For Heckel to…

The sudden change, the recovery of the boys…

It was never about killing him at all, then. It had been part of a deal. A promise. And Heckel…

“Your angel is quite fond of you. Trusts you. And from our own exchange, I could understand that. You were quite sincere when you refused me, after all. Most humans can be swayed. If not for themselves, then for others. I had thought that offering protection to your boys would be enough. But it seems you are someone whose will won't be bought. It’s safe to assume, I think, that if he were to witness your death, he would lose what little hope keeps him from falling.”

Johan stood, turning on his heel and heading away once more, locking Grimmer away once more. He faltered for only a moment, smiling that sympathetic smile one last time.

“At least you won’t have to watch. Removing an angel’s wings is as painful as you might imagine.”

With that, Grimmer was left alone, to nothing but his own wretched thoughts. 

Tenma…

He had told Tenma to go with Heckel. That Heckel would keep him safe. That nothing would happen to him. 

Grimmer...had promised that he would fly again.

_Tenma…_

The quiet _splish_ of water hitting stone was all Grimmer heard. He just sat there, staring into a small, growing puddle as drop after drop joined the first.

_You must be frightened. Wherever you are…_

It couldn’t be like this. Not like this. 

_”I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_

It couldn't end this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well everyone is screwed! How they gonna get out if they both caught huh??
> 
> And now Capek is here....I could have used say Bonaparta but I've always felt Capek was more menacing and disturbing. In my mind he was the one who helped Heinemann figure out how to make angels fall, so basically he's real nasty bad 
> 
> I feel there are some parts of these last 2 or 3 chapters that need a fine toothed comb taken to them to iron out stuff but that's for revision time...I wanna get the first draft out there.
> 
> RIP Becker you tried sort of


	13. Caged Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wound up a lot heavier than I intended lol. There’s crying, vomiting, traumatized children for starters and some pretty unsettling/derogatory behaviour towards Tenma, and mild physical abuse.

He just...wanted to help. All the three of them had wanted was to help.

At first they were doing okay. They really were doing fine...Grimmer didn’t _want_ help, but it was doing some good, keeping the guards distracted. It was like when they usually worked together! Wim knew he was probably in trouble later, and the others too, but they really really helped. And it looked like it was going good, Grimmer even got a hostage.

But then they...

Too focused on watching Grimmer, not a single one of them saw the other person till it was too late. And then it just felt like it wasn't real. Watching...it felt like it _couldn't_ be real.

They stabbed him. They really stabbed Grimmer. And their own guy, too. 

Out of the three boys hiding in the branches, Dieter looked like he was going to jump in there. Both he and Antonin had to hold him back, and even then he bit Wim’s hand really hard. Not enough to make him bleed, but it hurt enough that he let go.

Dieter didn’t jump, though. Because by then Grimmer was down, and there was a sword at the back of his neck.

All three were shocked into silence, bodies completely still as the weight of helplessness settled over them all. Those guys...they were gonna kill him. They were gonna kill Grimmer and there was nothing they could do.

There was nothing they could do.

Wim could feel the sick twisty stuff in his tummy really starting to squirm...and his head felt really light, sort of the way he felt sometimes when he was too hot or wasn’t drinking enough. His heart was pounding in his ears and he felt really really really bad. He had to put his hand over his mouth, but it was already too late, he could feel his throat start to constrict and then he was retching. Not much came out cept a little slimy yellowy gunk, but he could feel more churning around inside.

He needed to breathe normally. That's what Grimmer would say. To try to settle down. But he...

He just felt really really sick.

They could’ve tried to do something but they didn’t. They didn’t do a thing. And when those guys yelled out at them they just shrank, hid a little further away out of sight. Hid and watched.

Watched as the guy behind Grimmer hit him really hard with the back part of his sword. 

Watched them take him away.

_Watched._

They knew that fights got dangerous. Sometimes if they weren’t careful they got roughed up pretty bad, but that was normal. Scrapes and cuts and even breaks were normal, but it was fine because they sort of expected that in a fight.

But stabbing their own guy to get Grimmer...that was something they hadn’t seen before.

Just like that, the gross bubbly feeling in his tummy was back. Just thinking about it really really made him feel bad, really really wrong inside. He at least held it down till they were out of the trees and had gotten away, but he still was a bit guilty puking all over anyway. It just felt bad and smelled bad and didn’t help anything.

The three of them looked at each other, looked around. That bad feeling in the air was still there, heavy and weighing down.

Tenma and Heckel weren’t around. And now Grimmer was gone too.

They didn’t...know what to do. 

Dieter was pale, sitting with his back to the other two and his knees pulled right up to his chest. Without Grimmer…..Wim and Antonin were the oldest. Now they were supposed to be the ones taking care of each other.

Antonin was the one who moved first, walking over to Dieter and sitting down beside him. He hadn’t even put an arm around the other boy or touched him at all or whatever and already the boy was curling in on himself. Wim could hear small noises...just a few feet back he barely caught the little sounds he was making, sad sounds that made his own eyes start to water and his vision wobble and his lip tremble.

They saw something bad. Something really bad they shouldn’t of seen. What those people did was...wrong. More than just the normal sort of hurting other people type of wrong. 

In the end Dieter was the one who initiated the hug, his voice going from little sad noises to bigger ones. And Wim…

Wim felt lonely. And small. His hand twitched, lip quivering. If he didn’t go where those two were it felt like something even worse would happen. He halfway stumbled toward the weeping boys, making small protesting sounds as he reached out, eventually falling into Antonin's shoulder. 

Feeling the other two there, shaking just as bad as he was, made him feel better and worse at the same time. It wasn’t lonely….he had his arms wide and wrapped around their bodies and he could feel the fabric of their shirts squeezed in his fists. 

But his chest hurt really bad.

He wanted Grimmer to come out and put his way bigger arms around all three of them. Grimmer was warm and felt safe. He could make awful feelings go away somehow when he talked.

He…

“He was bleeding a lot." 

Wim's mumbled words took even him by surprise. Those weren’t supposed to be words that came out of his mouth but they did and he couldn’t stop them. And then he whimpered because he didn’t mean to say that, it wasn’t gonna make anything better saying stuff like that. 

“No they...they…”

Antonin was trying to answer, but his voice was doing that cracky thing where it shook too much to come out right. He tried taking a few deep breaths before starting again, pulling back a bit so he could just look at them both.

“If they wanted to they could’ve just….”

He broke off again as new tears welled up in his eyes, but he squeezed them really tight shut and shook his head, like that could make it stop. Though, it seemed to work for him.

“They took him somewhere. So they want him alive.”

That felt a little better to think about. At least until worse things got stuck in Wim’s head and he curled on himself.

“Doesn't mean they won't hurt him.”

His voice was muffled against his knees but the words were clear enough. Nobody said anything after that. They just looked up at the sky, bright and blue, the opposite of how they felt.

They needed Tenma. They needed Heckel. They needed help.

* * *

Tenma could feel the rope chafing against his wrists, rubbing painfully into his skin from how tightly his captors had chosen to tie them. It seemed unnecessary, but then they probably weren’t taking chances on an angel that had escaped them once before. He counted himself lucky that he was allowed to walk on his own two feet, for what little good it did him.

There were ten of them in all, including Heckel and Capek. Too many for him to try for an escape. There was an atmosphere of curiosity, as though the men present had never seen an angel this close before. Tenma had purged the faces of most of Heinemann’s men from memory, leaving only blank mannequins and disembodied voices as his tormentors. These men could have been among them, or not, and he would never know the difference. He kept his wings folded tight into his back, eyes constantly darting, watching their movements. They maintained a proper distance, at least, so he took what solace he could in that. He could live with the staring.

Heckel stood at the head of their entourage alongside Capek. With his back to Tenma, it was impossible to read the smaller man; he didn't want to believe Heckel had outright betrayed him, not after what progress they'd made, but it was hard to see this as anything _but_ betrayal. Heckel had used his trust to lure him away while he was weakest, and sold him to Heinemann's men.

There had been a sense of shame in the act, but that wasn't an excuse. Whatever his motives, Heckel had betrayed his trust.

“I’m rather surprised that you made good on our agreement, mister Heckel. It seems there is honour even among thieves and scoundrels.”

Capek's words were spoken with an amicable, lilting tone as he tried to engage his cohort. Tenma stared Heckel down, watching, waiting to see how he responded. He didn't seem to receive the kind tone well, his shoulders tensing as he looked away. Tenma couldn't see his face at this angle, but he certainly seemed agitated.

"S'not like I had much choice. I'm just doin' business, so don’t get friendly.”

There was a very plain sound of bitterness to his voice. Whatever this _agreement_ was, Tenma couldn't quite guess; blackmail was a possibility, or some other threat. At minimum it seemed that Heckel's betrayal wasn't a matter of money. If he was to be betrayed, at least it wasn't for greed. In the end it didn't really matter. Heckel had made the choice to hand Tenma over, fully aware of what would happen to him.

Capek hummed, seemingly unbothered by the mild attitude from his companion.

“True though that may be, we intend to fully honour the arrangement. And of course, you'll receive due compensation as was promised by the crown. We can discuss it further once we’ve returned the angel to our lord. But for now, before we proceed…”

The older man trailed off, turning his focus away from Heckel and towards Tenma, though the angel refused to look his way. He saw a vague gesture from the corner of his eye, and abruptly felt their entourage stop its forward procession. Two of the men moved in toward him, and suddenly they were reaching to grab at his shoulders. Tenma hissed, resisting them with what little effort he could, twisting and trying to pull free. There was some sort of sound of protest from Heckel, though it was drowned out by the drumming of his heart in his ears.

“No, not like that. It won't do any good to injure him. Gently.”

The grip relaxed slightly as ordered, though it caused no comfort in the angel. He could still feel the force behind their hands, trying to hold him steady even as his own strength started to give out in anxious panic. Tenma blinked, feeling a tight and growing dread start to coil in the pit of his stomach. He could feel Capek staring at him, looking over him with coldly appraising eyes.

The man circled around behind him, out of sight. Tenma narrowed his eyes, his wings twitching slightly. Out of his field of vision, Capek felt more dangerous, more threatening. Right now Tenma was surrounded by people who held no kind intent toward him. He had absolutely no reason to trust their actions, even less so out of sight.

Before he could put much thought to what the man wanted, he was taken down to his knees and urged to face forward, dizziness and gravity forcing his compliance. He already felt ill, felt tense. With his wrists lashed together in front of him, he was compromised. Even if he wanted to, there wasn't much he could do to defend himself.

When he felt careful hands touch his wings, Tenma felt his stomach plummet. He stared forward, ahead at nothing in particular, his wings twitching more frantically, causing the touch to falter for a moment. Tenma internalized his focus on just that, on what was happening immediately behind him; the shapes of bodies around him started to lose distinction, though he knew logically they were still there. His eyes simply chose not to perceive them, too focused on trying to stay calm.

“Hey j...y...what’re you doin’.”

A voice seemed to come from somewhere in Tenma's periphery, and he recognized it as Heckel. There was just a bit of tense urgency in his tone, something agitated and uncomfortable. Tenma tried to look up, but was halted by a hand at the back of his head, keeping his gaze down. The gesture wasn’t in any way forceful, but he didn’t want to test that man’s patience. So instead, he just kept his gaze down and listened.

“There's no need to worry. It's only an inspection. Nothing harmful to him.” 

There was a short pause, that hand moving away from the back of his head. Tenma released a slow breath, managing at least to ease a little of the tension in himself, though it wasn't much. There was a gentler smoothing of his feathers and he twitched despite himself, earning a small displeased sound from behind him.

“Keep still now, dove. It’ll only take a few moments if you cooperate. You remember that, don’t you?”

Capek spoke soothingly, but it felt incredibly _wrong_. Tenma felt carefully precise touches draw along his feathers, creeping along his nerves in a way that made him nauseous and dizzy and sick. He _did_ remember, and it was no less unpleasant now than before. Back then...every so often his wings were examined, looking for any sign that they were starting to tarnish and darken. No matter how carefully they handled his wings, it was still an inherently unpleasant and unnerving feeling. He wasn’t able to _see_ the man, couldn’t know for sure just what was happening. With the right means, even an angel's wings could be severely damaged. Letting someone close enough to touch them required _considerable_ trust, something that Tenma most _definitely_ hadn’t given to those men in the past, and certainly not now. The only person that had been allowed...

It wasn’t the same when it was Grimmer. The man had been quite cautious with him, patient enough not to touch his feathers until Tenma had told him it was all right, and even then it had only been brief. When it had been Grimmer, it didn’t feel like a threat, because he had allowed Tenma to set his boundaries. It was a respect for privacy and comfort that he wouldn't find here.

Tenma tried to think about that, about the sincere and caring feeling that had been communicated with his touch. Anything that would keep his mind away from this dark place here and now. Even so it wasn't easy to remove himself from the immediate sensations of contact; however subtle it was, he could feel it - the careful examination of his wings, fingers parting through his feathers. By the warm sound of the hum from behind him, he could only assume Capek was pleased.

“The last time I saw you, they were pure white, but the fruits of our effort is starting to show. It seems we'd just breached the turning point. The Lord will be pleased.”

Tenma set his jaw, closing his eyes. He could feel a faint stinging behind his eyelids, his chest squeezing tightly in on itself. There was one last draw of contact along the membrane of his wings before it was gone, the grip on his arms relaxing as he was released. He flattened his wings against his back, taking slow breaths to try to calm his churning stomach. It felt disgusting, like there was still something clinging to his feathers. He felt oily, wanted nothing more than to crawl out of his own skin.

Tenma vaguely heard footsteps, but didn’t pay any mind to what was happening. He simply reacted as he was prompted - rising back to his feet as his arm was given a light pull, walking as he was shoved. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. And he just…

Wanted to stop.

He just wanted it to stop. To wake up and have it all be a dream.

But it _wasn't_. 

“Our return should take no more than a half-day. The Lord will have his wings very soon.”

Tenma swallowed the sound that tried to escape his throat. He at least wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing the depth of his fear. For himself, for this place, for the people who lived in these woods. Heckel...whatever it was he was promised...whatever he thought he had won out of this, all he had done was to doom them. With his wings, with that kind of power, there was nothing that could stop a man like Lord Heinemann.

Tenma had decided to trust Heckel. Had opened up to him and felt some sort of understanding between them. And now...

“Uh, ya might wanna rethink that.”

All eyes turned to Heckel. All except Tenma, who kept his face forward, refusing eye contact with anyone. He didn’t bother to look at the man, to know what it was he was trying to do now. He still felt shaky and disgusting, too much so to focus on anything. Still, that clever, suave voice reached him even if he might have wished it didn't.

“Ya think marchin’ an angel around in broad daylight’s such a good idea in these woods? Got any idea how many bandits hang around these parts?" He made an agitated, broad gesture in Tenma's direction, though the angel didn't react.

"They see this guy n’ they’ll be on ya like vultures. They know what it’s worth if they can get their hands on him. I'd suggest ya wait ‘till the sun goes down. Easier n’ safer that way. I ain’t doin’ this if he’s just gonna get taken by some greedy rotten bastards 'cause you're a buncha incompetents.”

The more Tenma heard him speak, the more it felt like someone had shoved a stake through his stomach and was wiggling it around, squirming and upsetting the wound. He felt deeply anxious. He felt humiliated and betrayed and afraid.

He felt afraid.

There was a short pause and Tenma was brought to a halt for a second time, stumbling forward into one of his armed attendants. Looking up briefly he saw that Capek had raised a hand, turning around to face the group. Tenma's gaze fell immediately, unwilling to so much as look him in the eye.

"Well enough said." he murmured, his tone somewhat reluctant. "We break for now. Perhaps take a moment to stock supplies, and refill our water. We'll have to veer from the river shortly; now is our best chance.”

There was a round of mutters, and all but two of them dispersed; Capek and one other stayed behind along with Heckel. In a way, Tenma was glad. He wasn’t sure how he would feel right now, left alone with that man.

He hoped that Grimmer was faring better than this.

* * *

None a this was worth it. Heckel mighta saved the boys takin' on this deal, but what he was doin’ was evil, plain as day. For those kids...he’d do anythin’, that was still true. But he felt downright nasty leadin’ Tenma along like this, talkin’ about him like... _that._ Couldn't feel good bein' treated like some kinda commodity. Didn't feel any better treatin' him like one.

Heckel really didn't have much choice but ta go through with this agreement but it didn't mean he was gonna play it their way. He wasn't plannin' on just letting Lord Heinemann have Tenma; nothin' was worth givin' a bastard like that what he wanted. But Heckel didn't have a lotta cards he could play. Far as he was aware, if Johan got the first idea somethin' might not be going his way, it'd probably get everyone killed. So he couldn't just grab Tenma and go. Didn't leave him much room ta plan anythin' out so he'd done the best he could thinkin' on his feet.

Separatin' Tenma and Grimmer...that was important. Grimmer'd have a better chance ta deal with those guys in the Glade without havin' ta worry about Tenma gettin' caught, and then he'd come 'n make sure everythin' was okay with Tenma. So right now...Heckel had ta do everythin' he could to keep 'em stalled. The longer it took, the more likely it was for Grimmer ta catch up 'n turn things around.

But it was real...real hard seein' Tenma look like this. The guy wouldn't so much as look up, not even ta glare at him. He'd expected some sorta angry look from the angel but there was just nothin'. Like he was startin' to shut down, isolate himself inside his head.

Heckel never really understood anythin’ about what the angel musta went through during his capture, 'cept what he got told second hand. Wasn't like the guy talked about it to anyone but Grimmer, and Heckel wasn’t the kinda guy who’d pry. So he just let himself stay idly curious without askin’ a thing.

He got a front row seat now. 

They really didn’t see Tenma as a person at all. The way that Capek guy was inspectin' his wings felt a lot like an appraisal of rare gems. For just one second Tenma tried looking up 'n just got pushed back down. The guy might not have been hurting him but the angel was definitely stressed. What _really_ got Heckel though was callin' him _dove._ Made his skin crawl. It was degrading 'n reminded him a bit a when he'd first got himself caught. Didn't feel so great bein' called a rat, n those guys looked at him like he was made outta money. Course to them, he was; had enough of a bounty that he'd been worth the trouble ta catch anyway.

He'd really thought his days were up, then. But _he_ was just lookin' at time spent locked up. It was a lot worse for Tenma; these guys weren't just gonna slap him in chains 'n be done with it. Takin' his wings...there was nothin' Heckel could imagine comin' close to that.

Tellin’ himself this was for the sake a those boys wasn’t enough. Yea they were runnin' outta options but he still felt he just didn’t _try_ hard enough to find another way. He made a brief stand against it to prove he wasn't that kinda guy 'n then went right back and choked on those words. Now Tenma was the one takin' the fall cause he took the easy way out. Tenma was just startin' to trust him too, and he'd gone 'n stabbed him right in the back.

It was hard ta keep his trap shut. He wanted to give Tenma somethin', some kinda hope, but that was gonna look suspicious. And besides that...he didn't know if it was gonna work. It was risky bankin' on Grimmer showing up. But right now that was his best option.

At least he'd managed to call 'em to a halt. If he was lucky, Grimmer'd hurry his ass up 'n come to the rescue soon. And if he didn't...

Well that was somethin' he'd have to figure out as he went. He was an improviser. He was good at that.

Heckel watched without sayin’ a word as Capek and his other guy took another length of rope and used it to tie their prisoner to a tree. Not tight or anything but with his hands already stuck like that it just felt a bit like overkill. When Grimmer got outta that mess, he really probably was gonna kill him for this. 

Heckel let himself relax a bit in the relative silence, just sorta listenin' to birds in the distance. Least until that old guy walked over to him to make unwanted conversation. Heckel could think of a dozen better things he could be doin' but listened anyway 'cause playing nice was the best thing he could do for the time being.

“It seems you were right about Grimmer sending the angel to the west. We wouldn’t have thought he’d risk using the backwoods of our neighbours to hide. Though how you convinced him to let _you_ accompany him...he must have trusted you quite a bit.”

Heckel didn’t look at the guy. Or Tenma. Or at anyone, felt like if he looked at any of ‘em he’d spontaneously combust. But that’d be hopin for too much. He just huffed in response.

“That’s cause they did. Don’t think they’ll trust me much any more though.”

The man chuckled heartily. Which was rich 'cause Heckel sure didn't think it was funny.

“Yes, you lived together like something of a family, didn’t you? You made a very bold decision. But, the alternative would have been much worse for you all. This is a much lesser cost.”

Heckel could feel eyes cuttin' into him, knew that Tenma was watching. Maybe tryna figure him out, judging quietly. Heckel was the one who wouldn't look up this time, instead just shruggin' a shoulder.

“Doesn’t make me happy bout it. Ya really made me compromise on my rules here.”

Capek smiled thinly, glancing back toward Tenma. The angel had refocused his gaze away and was staring straight ahead, completely rigid, morose and statuesque but still carrying himself with a raised head and proud shoulders, fear be damned. 

“Well, I commend you for your honesty. If it offers consolation, we have no desire to cause the angel undue harm. Once the wings have been severed, the intention is to release him.”

_As if he can't hear ya._

Heckel felt his face contort, an involuntary response. It felt like they were talkin' about wild game, like on a hunt for a deer or a rabbit. Only a rabbit wasn't like a person. It didn't think or feel like one. They'd somehow got themselves to a point where they could talk like that - about really truly hunting down a person - n' didn't see it as a problem. People like that...

“You disapprove.” 

Heckel’s eye twitched and he grimaced. Oh there were a lotta things he could say but he bit down on most of it.

“Don’t think that really matters does it? I don’t gotta like all my jobs as long as the outcome's what I want.”

Capek nodded, glancing out toward the sky, to the warm light that filtered in around them. Two lovely blue birds spiralled down, one landing on Tenma’s knee while the other nestled on his shoulder, making soft twittering sounds at him. The angel stirred, seemingly surprised at first, before a painful look overtook his face. He tilted his head and closed his eyes, allowing his cheek to lightly brush the soft feathers of the bird. It was the most emotion he'd shown since late that morning.

“Spoken like a man of business. To achieve what we want, there are often certain sacrifices to be made.”

Heckel didn't much have anythin' to say to that. He found himself just watching Tenma with those birds. He didn't know what it was with that guy 'n birds but they really seemed ta like him. Probably sensed how anxious he was.

"Tell me, does he have a name?"

Heckel saw a slight flick in the angel's gaze as he glanced up toward Capek, though his focus stayed on his newfound companions, who now just sat there perched on him like fragile guardians. Heckel turned away from the angel, shaking his head.

"None he's told me. Not like we were that close. He never really opened up with me, just Grimmer n' he was real tight lipped about most stuff. Said that tellin' me anything was imposin' on the angel's right to privacy or somethin'. He avoided me most a the time, so it's not like I'd know."

For however bad he was at hidin' his disgust, Heckel was still an excellent liar when he wanted ta be. It didn’t feel right givin’ Tenma’s name to these guys when they were just gonna tarnish it. So for now he held onto that, delivered his line with a confident, self assured face.

He turned to look at Tenma and just about felt his heart jump up in his throat. The angel was lookin’ up at him, with those huge gold eyes. It was hard ta say just what was goin' through his head but he definitely had questions. Didn't speak, didn't voice anything, but he was definitely confused. Heckel...hoped that it gave him somethin'...some sorta hope that he wasn't bein' abandoned, cause even past that he could see just how _scared_ the angel was. Capek beside him hummed, taking Heckel's attention back once more.

"A shame. For such a creature to endure as painstakingly as he has and still maintain his grace, I would very much like to know his name. He has an incredible force of will."

Heckel felt his face scrunch again 'n turned away. He really wasn't feelin' this chat, not with Tenma right there hearin' it all. He tugged at his ponytail, giving a tired sorta shrug. Didn't have anything else to add so he let himself go quiet, let himself think. He was gonna have to start figurin' out what to do in case Grimmer didn't show. Wasn't sure how much longer he could wait.

* * *

The angel had yet to arrive.

It was hours after noon now, later than expected. By their agreement, the angel should already have been given to Lord Heinemann, and the human executed. As of yet, neither had come to pass.

It was trouble for the fallen angel.

There was a certain expectation for the party to arrive later than intended, but the good lord was not known for his patience. Nor for his manners. The man stood tall, sure to emphasize his size compared to the lithe angel as he leered down upon his fallen, ever so displeased by his report.

"I didn't spare your suffering for you to fail me." he growled, his eyes sharp upon Johan. "It would be an easy thing to have you take his place."

The threat was one Johan had received before, one that he had come to be familiar with as an expression of disapproval. Despite himself, he felt the faintest twitch of his wings beneath the scratchy fabric of his cloak, agitated despite how often the remark was heard. Brilliant blues were trained on Lord Heinemann; on his ugly face, on the white feather pinned to his lapel.

That feather was an endless taunt, a reminder of what once had been. Such a pure thing that his own, tainted energy could not touch. The light that once had belonged to him acted as an equal and opposite force; so long as the tyrant lord wore that feather on his person, there was nothing that Johan could do, no threat he could make upon that man. It was a cruel irony; at his fingertips was the power to end the pig's life should he so ever choose, but his own energy prevented it.

A small smile flitted at his lips, delicate and doll-like.

"Yes, it _would_ be an easy thing."

Johan's voice drawled softly, slowly, in his pleasant and soothing tone. Even now he would not be cowed. He allowed his gaze to fall, his fingers tracing the clasp of his cloak almost absentmindedly.

"I'm sure it would thrill you to no end, to butcher me. To take all that's left of what I am. But that's not what you want, is it?"

He stepped back, peering up at the incredulous lord with piercing, icy eyes that saw no fear.

"I'm not as _strong_ as you'd like me to be. You'll have your glory, but what then? What will you do, when I've become utterly useless to you? That angel cannot be caught by someone like yourself. Not alone. The world will never dance in the palm of your hand, and you will remain a simple lord."

His words were terribly bold, out of place for one in his position. When he saw the man rise, when he felt the wicked crack against his jaw, it was a response he certainly anticipated. His head snapped to the side from the force; truthfully he had expected worse, but even Lord Heinemann held some form of restraint. Wounded though his pride was, the man wasn't fool enough to shatter what was delicate. 

"You'll mind your tongue."

Despite himself, Johan felt the slightest chill at the rasped reply, though no more was said; his point had been made, and begrudgingly, Lord Heinemann had accepted. Johan brushed at his newly bruised cheek, feeling the tender skin beneath his fingertips. He let his hands fall to his sides, turning away from Lord Heinemann.

"Humour me for now; I expected a certain delay in our plans. In all likelihood there's nothing to worry about. But, if the angel has escaped us, I imagine we might make use of his human."

He flashed a backward smile, a horrible little thing with devious intent.

"Humans are incredibly fragile. How worrying it must be for an angel who cares for them."

With that, he began to stalk away. Even with his back turned, he knew the man was satisfied, at least for now. Johan maintained a calm about himself, but the taste of freedom was so very near; in short hours, his arrangement with the ugly lord would reach its conclusion. A tragedy though it was for the angel and the human, Johan could only empathize so much. He was no creature of virtue; to be free, to regain his life as he pleased, he had no qualms in allowing them to be sacrificed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl the whole first bit with the kids f'ed me up super bad. That was horrible. But I brought it on myself so only me to blame! Also Tenma did not deserve any of that but I'm a sucker for contrasted imagery...on the bright side it means there will be some good fluff eventually ;;
> 
> Sorry it took me so long to update this time around, the whole fic wound up going in way different directions than I had planned for so I had to do a lot of reworking lol. Anyway this chapter is getting cut in half because this is decently long enough and the second bit is driving me NUTS so I'll give yall this part for now so you ain't waiting forever. Heckel is not evil and Johan is feisty. What's next?


	14. Mourning Dove

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally chapter 14...I'm gonna be honest I really don't like how some of this came out, but I can't get my head around a good way to write it. This is what happens when you plot as you go then change things partway through! It's not *bad* I don't think but it definitely isn't what I want it to be. If I ever go through and revise this monster there'll probably be a number of changes when I figure out a more seamless way to get this chapter across.
> 
> Anyway there's a few warnings; this chapter contains some more child trauma and apathy/dehumanization toward Tenma. He needs a break.

Capek had sent a runner to get word to their Lord. Probably wasn't too happy havin' his angel late to arrive so they had to catch him up to speed on their progress or the guy might lose it. And yet these people willingly served the bastard...hard to say which of 'em was worse.

To Heckel that came across as strange; durin' his talk with Johan it seemed like the guy had some sorta...see-all, know-all magic eyes goin' on. Now it was lookin' more like that was some intense bluff. Probably an intimidation tactic to keep him from talkin' to anybody about betrayin' them. He'd sounded real confident when he said it, even knew about Heckel's visit to Schumann's girl. Made him start to question whether he was somehow keepin' tabs on them.

But if they had to send somebody to run a message to Lord Heinemann...well that just didn't add up. From what Becker said the guy was like his right hand man. If he didn't already know where Tenma was, then Johan wasn't as all-seein' as he made himself out to be, just a real good liar. And if that was the case...

It didn't make rescuin' Tenma _easy,_ but it opened up a few more avenues knowin' there wasn't some kinda instant threat if he took action.

There was a few hours before the sun dropped behind the horizon which gave Heckel....about that much time to figure out how to get the angel out. He was still up against seven or so of Lord Heinemann's elite, so he'd rather avoid a fight. Somethin' more subtle then.

He took a glance back at Tenma. They were leavin' him alone for the most part, cept to keep an eye on him. The guy looked miserable but exhaustion was settin' in; looked like he was on the verge of fallin' asleep. That was probably good for him; least it'd get him away from here for a few hours. He'd completely internalized himself, shuttin' out everything around him except those two little birds there. At least he had some kinda comfort. 

With the encampment settled for now, the group was startin up a fire. They split their numbers; some were goin' on a hunt for wild game for a stew - Heckel's own recommendation, or else they were stuck eatin' piss tastin' rations - while the rest kept watch, not that there was much chance of anythin' attacking. Fire drew attention sure, but they had visible numbers; after gettin' completely trounced the last time, those bandits lurkin around weren't gonna be so quick to jump at 'em.

Heckel turned around again, let the guy rest for now, let himself focus on makin' the stew. He wasn't really expectin' a buncha soldiers to have any kinda...equipment or anythin' but it made sense; they didn't know how long a return trip was gonna be, so they took what provisions they could pack. Heckel waited for the water to boil over the fire and went about foragin' for a few particular ingredients, stuff ta make it taste like more than gamy meat. He stuck close to the camp, if only 'cause he didn't trust leavin' Tenma alone with any of Heinemann's men. Besides, he'd found what he was lookin' for.

He'd found 'em a long time ago, when he first started livin' around the Glade. This real sweet smellin' mushroom...struck him as odd but it tasted pretty good - not sweet like the smell made it seem. There were a whole buncha them growin' around here for easy harvest. Livin' out in the woods came in real handy for pickin' out what kinda stuff was good to eat and what wasn't.

He headed back to the camp with a good sized load. Seemed like he was real focused on the cooking, but in the back a his mind a plan was startin' to form. It'd be a bit of a long shot but right now it was all he had.

* * *

If it weren’t for the two bluebirds, Tenma might have felt completely alone. 

They offered some small semblance of peace. Even if he couldn’t understand their gentle twitters, their delicate voices and the fondness as they sat upon his shoulder offered a much needed, if only minimal, comfort. It was a small flickering light in a place that felt as though it was closing in around him.

Heckel had sold him to Lord Heinemann in the name of some inescapable arrangement. Tenma could only understand so much, but it seemed to be the result of some threat against the children. This was some sort of deal that ensured their protection. Heckel…did what he believed would protect his family.

And he…

He lied to Capek. He protected Tenma’s name.

There was no purpose to it, it wasn’t as though having his name gave any sort of power over an angel…but it meant Heckel hadn’t just handed him in to collect some reward. He consciously chose to lie to the man.

Truth be told, Tenma was glad. He didn’t particularly want to hear his name spoken by Capek. Just the idea was sickening. He couldn’t say he understood what Heckel was trying to do by omitting his name, but it was a gesture he appreciated.

He closed his eyes, tuning out the rest of the conversation between Heckel and Capek. He concentrated just on his sweet companions, who had stayed by his side for nearly an hour now. One had fallen asleep on his shoulder, but kept half-waking as droopy eyes jolted open only to shut once again. Tenma absorbed every sound, every smell, the feeling of the warm sun, the grass and the breeze and those soft feathers. 

It was probably the last time he would get to appreciate them. Just as soon as he had been allowed back into the light, it was being stolen once again.

Tenma stiffened as another one of those stinging pains shot through his wings. It was still dull, barely even noticed now, but his slight flinch had been enough to wake the little bird on his shoulder. He wanted to reach up and lift her into his palms, a comfortable little place for her to sit. She seemed content using his shoulder as a perch, doing what little she could to soothe his heart.

Tenma closed his eyes again and simply breathed. Slowly in, slower out. Even knowing what was to come...he would rather be at ease, in these last few hours beneath the sun. He could feel himself starting to nod off. He hadn't slept, not at all. Not since waking in a startle that night, since the rushed escape. That exhaustion was starting to get to him.

...

He couldn’t say when, but at some point in that time he fell asleep. Rest was dark and silent, but that was certainly preferable to his horrid nightmares. Or perhaps he’d simply reached such a dark depth in slumber that his waking mind shut the images away.

What woke him was a pulling at the rope that bound him to the tree. Barely aware, he jolted backward into the sturdy tree rather painfully; in his state of delirium he’d thought the pulling was one of Capek’s soldiers, but it had been his own weight, fallen forward while he slept. He still felt an uncomfortable crawl along his skin, imagined though it was.

“Morning, dove.”

There were a couple chuckles. Tenma didn’t look at any of them, didn’t care to give them the reaction they wanted. He did, though, feel a tremor in his heart, opening his eyes to look around. It certainly _wasn’t_ morning; unless he’d slept a full day, it was, at most, late in the afternoon. And since he was still tied to the same tree, he had to assume the group hadn’t simply stayed in this one location for so long.

His stomach growled, at first softly and then much louder. Tenma closed his eyes again, his lower lip twitching slightly as his nails dug into his palms. He'd grown not to dread that sound, but now it was coming back. There was another chuckle from nearby, the same as before.

“You have excellent timing. Your friend is just in the middle of preparing dinner. We can't travel on empty, now.”

At first, Tenma didn’t quite register what that meant. Friend…they probably meant Heckel, but then that begged the question as to why he was making anything at all. These were soldiers; as far as Tenma knew, they were provided with rations. Though...then again, that was the answer itself. He didn’t care to remember much of what Becker would say when he talked his mouth off to his prisoner, but he certainly remembered how much the man _detested_ lengthy trips precisely because of the rations.

He supposed Heckel simply took it upon himself to cook something whose consistency and flavour was better than stale bread. Tenma kept a straight face, closing his eyes as he breathed in, trying to ignore his hunger. If Capek was heading this operation, he had no doubt he would be denied anything to eat.

Tenma relaxed as much as he was able, allowing himself to reduce tension as much as he could, listening to the breeze and the distant sounds through the trees. The forest spoke kindly to him, carrying faraway birdsong and the fresh scents of the leaves and the grass after a rainfall.

It carried another scent to him as well.

The smell was intensely sweet, almost overpoweringly so. There were other aromas that wafted and combined with it, but the sweetness was far stronger than the rest, dominating the smell completely. It seemed familiar, though he couldn't place it, in his present state of mind.

Tenma opened his eyes to watch Heckel, staring, waiting for him to turn. He didn’t so much as acknowledge Tenma, keeping his focus on whatever brew he was making. He looked just the same as he always did when he cooked, concentrated on the task at hand. 

“That’s quite a stare. You must be famished.”

Capek’s voice came closer than before and Tenma bristled, his wings twitching as his gaze fell. He let his hair cascade in front of his face, veiling his expressions. Capek only chuckled, though Tenma ignored it.

“No need to worry, dove. You'll have your share. Unless you choose to starve yourself again.”

He was trying to goad Tenma into some sort of reaction. The angel steeled himself, squaring his shoulders and facing stubbornly forward. If he could at least refuse to give Capek what he wanted, then that was victory enough for now.

Tenma kept that calm about him, even as the party of soldiers settled in to eat. The air was starting to cool, the wind still offering the gentlest of caresses and soothing whispers. His stomach gnawed at itself, but he ignored it; he didn’t think he’d be able to keep anything down, even if he wanted to. Instead, he tried shutting them out. He let himself sink against the tree, leaning his head back, taking comfort in the hush of the leaves above. 

All he wanted was peace. Just a few moments, before it was gone.

* * *

“Mister Heckel…I’m quite impressed. It's not the fine dining of home, but for what meagre provisions are at your disposal, it's certainly rich to the taste. A skill acquired from your years of living off the land, I assume?” 

Even stuffin’ their faces they still wouldn’t shut up. But at least the bunch of ‘em hadn't much bothered Tenma in that time except to stare. Probably knew their place. In the end they were just a glorified escort, takin’ their lord’s prisoner back to be locked away again. Couldn’t risk bringin’ him back damaged.

The longer he could keep ‘em sitting around, the better. Heckel shrugged a shoulder, tugging at his ponytail. He hadn't portioned any food for himself yet, better ta let the soldiers have a few bites first.

“Well it was that or eat nothin’, and I really didn’t feel like dyin’, so I learned what was good ta eat 'n what wasn't. It was a bit of trial ‘n error. Lots of error.”

He was waitin’ for a laugh but nothin’ came. Either they missed the cue or they were just a buncha stiffs who stored their swords somewhere real painful.

He heard a low gurgle and turned to glance at Tenma, feelin' just a little pang of guilt. He looked peaceful, but in a resigned, sad kinda way. The guy was shuttin’ down already, like he’d just accepted what was comin’.

“At any rate, it’s much better than the alternative. We may be Heine’s elite, but rations are as appetizing as animal feed.”

 _That_ time there was a laugh. Heckel rolled his eyes. Why _that_ got a laugh and not his clever wit was beyond him. But at that point he was just bein’ petty for pettiness sake. He’d got Capek talkin’ at least, so decided to use that for himself. His plan wasn’t gonna work unless he could buy time. He jabbed his ladle toward Capek as he portioned out some food for himself and plopped down, stirring his stew around a bit. 

”So, you….I got this gut feeling here. Somethin’ tells me you ain’t a soldier. They're here for the clout, but what about you? What’re you gettin’ outta this then?”

There wasn’t a whole lot he could do with any kinda information, but knowin’ anything about this guy would make him feel just a little better. There was a thoughtful hum as the man swallowed a bite, sitting back with a shake of his head.

“You’d certainly be correct. I’m no soldier, not in the least. Rather…”

He glanced toward Tenma. The angel was doin’ his best to ignore it, but even Heckel caught just a little twitch in his hands, tension in his shoulders. Even with his eyes closed like that the guy could feel he was bein' stared down.

“It was with my assistance that our lord discovered the means to pluck an angel’s feathers. I’d been studying their behaviours for quite a time, before they became such scarce creatures. He sought me out, put my expertise to practical use on our first angel. It was quite a success.”

Capek addressed Heckel, but he was still starin’ at Tenma in a way the thief didn't really like. It felt like he was lookin' at an elaborate marble sculpture less than a person. Made Heckel feel kinda grimy.

“Discovering how to make an angel fall was much more difficult. It requires a certain balance; the emotional state of the angel has to be kept at a certain low and maintained. The aim is to erode at his will until he breaks. He has to willfully sin, after all. Our first subject turned out quite beautifully, but this one required much more effort, and even now he hasn’t reached the falling stage. As for what I get out of it…”

He adjusted those creepy spectacles of his, finally takin’ his eyes off Tenma, turnin’ a wide smile on Heckel.

“A vast wealth of knowledge. With him, I’ll gain a more refined understanding of an angel’s link to his magic. What properties his wings possess that makes them so unique. There’s so much more I can learn.”

Capek said all that with this…intellectual kinda sound about him. All the while eatin’ his stew like there was nothin’ wrong with any a what he just said. Not a single one a them was bothered by it, talkin’ about Tenma like he was some kinda experiment. Heckel narrowed his eyes, settin’ down his untouched bowl with a grimace. There was another ugly chuckle from Capek.

“You truly do surprise me. I’d never have imagined someone like _you_ to care for the angel.” 

Heckel glared at the ground.

“I wanna live good, have lots of women and be rich. I ain’t after some twisted evil power trip.”

Capek took another mouthful of his stew, starin’ Heckel down now. He was good at that, had this real creepy intense stare through those spectacles a his. Even Heckel felt a little chilled lookin’ that guy in the eye.

“Is it evil to hunt and kill a hare, a deer?”

Uh huh….so they really _were_ goin’ there. Heckel felt his lip curl back in disgust.

“Ya know, I’m pretty sure he ain’t an animal. If we’re havin’ this discussion you gotta gimme somethin’ better than that.”

There was a pause, both men lookin’ at each other with intense stares. Capek was the one who first broke the locked gaze, smiling that nasty smile he was so good at.

“Everyone is an animal, mister Heckel. You and I are no different from him in that regard.”

The man set his own half-finished bowl down as he slowly stood, walking around toward Heckel. As the sun started to sink below the horizon, the wash of orange hues behind him gave a real eerie sorta look.

“We’re no less animals than your angel. However, the difference is circumstance and power. Angels are solitary creatures. Humans hunt in packs. By nature’s own design, humans have the upper hand with a wounded angel. He knew he was hunted, but failed to escape. He had every opportunity that we did; our hunt could have ended very differently. But, in the end, the animal who overpowers his prey is the victor. And to the victor goes the spoils.”

_Spoils._

Capek sounded so casual sayin’ that. Heckel woulda liked to casually stick him right in the eye with somethin' good and sharp but kept his composure for now. The old bastard stopped right in front of him, staring down at him through those creepy spectacles, with a distant, authoritative kinda look, like he was trying to intimidate him.

“It’s not a matter of what’s good, or evil. It’s the way of nature. The strong prevail.”

Heckel’s scowl didn’t change. He just kinda stared, because he really didn’t know what to even say after that. Not that it was wrong….cause Heckel sorta understood. He wasn’t much of a metaphors guy but from what he got, Capek was just sayin’ strong people made the rules ‘n if ya didn’t like it then to make change you had to get rid of the guy on top…pretty standard stuff. By that look he was givin’ Heckel it was a kinda threat…sure Heckel was the one who helped set their little trap but he wasn’t part a their group. Capek was givin’ him one a those…”don’t try anything” talks.

Heckel just shrugged, looking down 'n closing his eyes.

“Great that ya got all that justified in your head. I still think you’re pretty messed up.” 

Capek kept a lingerin’ gaze on him for just a few more seconds, really driving home that “or else” look before he turned, gazin’ back on Tenma. There was another low gurgle from the angel’s stomach, a sound that cut right into Heckel painfully.

“It won’t be long now, dove. Your misery will not last.”

He squared off then, standin' tall...which wasn't really tall for an old guy but he held some force of presence all the same.

"I believe we've waited long enough. The lord is waiting. The lot of you, finish what you can. And..."

He stopped, trailin' off like he was lost in thought. Blinked, then blinked again. Brought a hand to his left temple and half stumbled to the side.

It was finally startin'.

Heckel almost didn’t notice, but the slight trip in Capek’s step and the way he stopped to look around all dazed gave it away. He wobbled a bit, reachin’ a hand out to brace on somethin’. He was tryna speak but the words were low n’ sorta slurred, like the old guy couldn’t quite process it.

Heckel grinned. His special ingredient was doin' its job, and at a damn good time ‘cause he was runnin’ outta ideas to keep these people stalled. Capek wasn’t the only one; the others were starting to go down too, though they seemed to realize what was goin’ on. One guy kicked over his bowl as he tried ta cough up what he'd swallowed. Not like it was gonna do ‘em much good. That stuff was fast acting n’ potent; somethin’ Heckel learned himself the hard way first time around. He’d been out for two days after eatin’ a few of those things. With how much stew those guys had been chowin' down on it was safe to say they’d be out of it for at least half that.

Right now Heckel just counted himself lucky that it worked at all. Hungry idiots just didn’t question what they were puttin’ in their mouths as long as it smelled good.

Heckel took a deep breath, lettin it out in the longest god damn sigh a relief he’d ever sighed. He had a headache that was absolutely murderin his skull now, but at least he’d somehow got away with his plan. He dragged a hand down his face, slowly standin’ up. 

Knockin' all a them out...that was one a the hard parts. The other was gonna be…

He could already feel his chest squeeze painfully as he made his way toward Tenma. His earlier moment’s smug victory dissipated, leavin’ him with this heavy kinda dread that seemed to eat through his gut. Tenma had those...big, confused doe eyes on, watching Heckel move toward him. He tensed visibly when Heckel pulled his dagger from his side, wary as the thief got close. The smaller man stopped a few feet away n just crouched down, so Tenma could get a good look at him. Look right at his eyes. It gave Tenma enough time ta relax.

And it gave himself time...so he could figure out what in the hell he was gonna say. 

Where he should start.

Heckel swallowed, looking between his dagger and Tenma. Finally managed to settle just lookin’ him in the eye, hard as that was ta maintain. Right now it was important.

“Listen. Just...even a guy like me…’s got rules.”

He really had no idea what he was sayin'. There was a reason he left this kinda stuff for Grimmer.

“I know I ain’t a...uh...well, I mean, I ain't a great guy, I’m pretty much a crook no matter how ya look at it. But I got standards, ya know? I don’t…”

It was a struggle just ta talk. The words kept eating themselves alive. It felt a bit like he was gonna throw up. Or maybe it was just guilt. Sure felt solid to him though.

“I do a lotta dirty stuff...some pretty shady deals if the payoff’s good...but I don’t do _people_. Doesn’t matter how much it pays, I just don’t, cause I was in your shoes once 'n it was a real bad feelin'. I saw what those guys did to ya. I ain't bastard enough to sell ya back to 'em, but I had ta play along for a while. My original plan fell through so I improvised."

Heckel took a real slow deep breath to make up for the verbal vomit he just spewed. Gave Tenma some time to process it a little.

"I put 'em down for a while. You're gonna be fine. Just...gimme a sec ‘n I’ll cut ya loose.”

He took a minute ta just let that...sink in. Tenma didn’t say anything, or move, but his face was changin’, looked less...afraid, and more just...confused, miserable. When Heckel came forward with his dagger, he didn’t flinch away. Heckel started sawin' at the ropes around his wrists carefully, watching it split and fall to Tenma’s feet. The angel nursed at his wrists once they were free, watching as the discolored skin slowly started to lighten, the red marks disappearin' in under a minute as Heckel started at the ropes around his middle. He still wouldn’t speak. Heckel faltered, his gaze falling.

It was hard ta look him in the eyes again. Felt like he was bein’ judged. Not that he didn't deserve it. He let out a huff of air as he worked.

“I ain’t gonna ask forgiveness or anythin’. I’d get it if ya hate my guts. I didn't have a lotta options so I had ta work with what I got.” 

He stepped back once Tenma was free, looking away ‘n clenching a fist.

“I didn’t know they were gonna mess with your wings. I hope you ain’t hurt.”

Tenma let out a small sound, his lips drawing into a tense line as his wings twitched. He drew in a slow, shaky breath as his head bowed forward, veiling his eyes in a dark curtain. He was rubbing at his arms, pressing his fingers pretty rough into the skin. After a few seconds, he took another deep breath, this time a little steadier, arms relaxing. He started getting to his feet, bracing a hand against the tree for balance as he looked out, toward Heckel now.

“What..”

His voice was quiet, hoarse, sorta sounded like dread.

“What sort of _deal_ did you make.”

Heckel rubbed at his temples with one hand as he collected up the rope. Those guys were gonna be out for a while, but even then ya couldn’t be too careful; didn’t hurt ta buy some extra time. He started binding their wrists; the task kept him busy so he didn't have ta look at Tenma when he spoke.

“I got stuck in a hard place. Those boys weren’t gonna make it ‘n they were fading fast. That Johan guy…the day I went lookin’ for doc Schumann…”

He wasn’t sure if he was really feelin’ it or not but he could swear Tenma’s eyes were borin' right into him. Maybe he was just imagining the contempt but it sure felt like it was there. Heckel shut his eyes.

“I said no. I really told him no, the first time. Cause...I toldja...I don’t do people. But we were runnin’ outta time. If I didn't do it their way you _know_ they woulda stormed in there 'n smoked us all out. I didn't have a whole lotta choice.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Tenma’s voice was...authoritative, but surprisingly calm. Heckel sorta...expected he’d get an earful for that. He’d just admitted ta meetin’ with Johan...lyin’ to the bunch of ‘em. But then Tenma was probably...too tired ta just dish out some angry little speech. Heckel nodded, checkin’ the ropes on the next guy.

“Y...you for their safety. He said he'd save 'em if I gave you up. That they'd leave the Glade alone. He even healed the boys in advance so I'd know he wasn't kiddin'. Wouldn’t do it for Grimmer, cause he needed some kinda leverage to make sure I’d do my part. I was spose ta let Lord Heinemann’s guys into the Glade, so they could take you away quietly. Nobody else gets hurt, they just take you ‘n leave 'n never bother us again. Ya gotta understand, the way things were lookin’... _everyone_ was gonna die. So I…”

He cut himself off with a wince at the look Tenma gave him. Shook his head.

“Gettin’ you out here meant givin' you a chance. I figured...Grimmer'd come lookin' for ya once he finished with the guys searchin' the Glade. But since he ain't shown up he's probably havin' more trouble than I thought. Right now you gotta-”

“That's enough.”

Tenma’s voice was spoken low, almost hollowly. His wings twitched again as he looked up, brilliant golds meeting Heckel’s own, sheepish gaze. Tenma looked absolutely dead on his feet but somehow carried himself with some intense force. That...force of will Capek was talkin' about.

“We’re going back.”

Heckel balked.

Oh, for cryin’...

He circled out in front of the angel, so he was walking backwards as he tried to block his path, putting his arms out wide.

“I think ya missed the part where the people who wanna put ya in a cage are loiterin' around back there. That's the last place you should be, like Grimmer said. Once I get ya someplace safe I'll check up on him myself and-”

“I owe this to him.”

That was twice now Tenma cut him off. Heckel wasn’t used to that, not when the angel he’d gotten ta know was this quieter, kinda depressin’ guy. Nice, just not really that assertive. So this new side a Tenma was sorta throwin’ him a bit. Specially when his eyes looked real… _fierce_ like that, not the kinda look he expected outta Tenma. His wings twitched again, like they were itchin' to spread and lift him into the air.

“I never asked Grimmer to help me, or protect me. He made that choice. Everything that's happened...it's all because he chose to protect me, instead of giving me up. If he's fighting them, even now…”

He started walking again, pushed right through Heckel. He paused briefly, glancing back as his wings seemed to settle finally.

“I understand what you were trying to do. I don’t hate you for it. I just..have a bad feeling."

He relaxed, facing forward and squaring his shoulders. "I’m going. You can follow, or not. That’s up to you.”

Heckel just sorta…stood there, watching. That guy...there was some sorta spark he wasn’t use ta seein’ in his eyes.

There wasn’t any way he could change Tenma’s mind. Thought goin’ back was _stupid_ , cause it meant literally everything he’d gone n’ set up ta get Tenma outta danger was for _nothing,_ but that kinda look...ya didn’t fight that.

With a grumbled noise that spoke universally across all languages to the definition of annoyance, Heckel trudged off to follow. Not like he had anythin' else to do.

* * *

Tenma...knew what he was doing was foolish. He understood that. But right now...he didn’t think he could be rational. Not after…

He still felt nauseous. That had been far, far too close. For a heart-stopping moment, he really believed that it was over. He really thought that Heckel had given him up.

It was when he refused to give Tenma’s name that he started to suspect there might be more going on. There was no _reason_ for him to lie, nothing for him to gain or lose. That had been meant for Tenma to hear. A message that he hadn’t been abandoned.

Even so, that didn’t just erase those feelings. Tenma was still shaken; he had been incredibly close to losing everything. Heckel might have acted in a way that he thought gave them their best chances, but that sick, twisting, uncomfortable feeling in his stomach told the angel that even now, something wasn't right.

He had felt it before: a deep uncertainty, as though leaving was _wrong._ He chastised himself for not listening to his gut feeling, for going along and leaving Grimmer to handle himself. It was true that he was strong..quick, and clever, and this was his home..but the risk was far too high. If something happened... 

The silence of the Glade chilled Tenma with unease. Nothing made a sound, not even the familiar twitter of birdsong. The whole of the wood seemed to have fallen into dread. In the ideal, it meant that the boys were in hiding, and Grimmer with them.

He heard and saw nothing, but that meant little while his senses remained diminished and human. The wind, at least, continued to guide him, twisting and winding through trees, urging the angel to follow its wistful whispers. He could see, as he walked, where there had been signs of struggle; overturned soil, imprints from footfalls in the mud, trampled foliage. No bodies to accompany it, though, which told him whatever had happened had been some time ago. The lack of a blood trail made it clear they hadn’t been badly injured.

He kept along with the low wail of the breeze, minding his surroundings, in case he wasn't alone. It was when he came to a clearing amidst the trees that he came to a halt. There were signs of another struggle like the first, only this time it told a more macabre story.

Tenma took a slow breath in, crouching down as his fingers traced broad blades of grass, tarnished with spots of dark red. By the breadth of the red stain, he could only imagine how much blood had been spilled here, soaked into the earth.

Heckel kept just a few feet back, though Tenma paid him little mind. Even so, he could feel a certain degree of apprehension as he caught up, surveying the scene for himself. That confidence from earlier seemed to have faded. Whatever outcome he had hoped for, it wasn't this.

Rustling in the near foliage caught the angel’s attention, and his gaze snapped up.

It was faint, but close, and as quickly as he’d heard it, the sound disappeared. His wings twitched as he turned, listening for any further sound, watching for movement. It could have been an animal, but the feeling of being watched had started gnawing at Tenma’s mind.

It didn’t feel _threatening;_ there was nothing about the presence that seemed harmful in any way. Rather it felt cautious, unsure. He had an idea just who it was that was watching them. Tenma gestured to Heckel to keep quiet, then started slowly in the direction of the sound. He crouched low, though stayed a few feet away from the denser foliage. He could already see the faintest flicker of movement between branches and leaves.

“Come on out now. Don’t be afraid.”

The silence pressed on, but this time was characterized by a small, sad whining sound. Tenma pressed forward just a little, edging slowly, as cautiously as Grimmer behaved around him in the beginning. Hiding beyond the brambles, amidst the narrow crooked roots of a long dead tree, was Dieter. Clutched in shaking hands was a small dagger, blade aimed outward at Tenma. If not for how terribly he was shaking, he looked as though he was ready to pounce. Once he saw Tenma’s face, though, he froze outright, eyes growing wide and lower lip trembling. He gripped the dagger tighter, though his arm at least lowered to his side, flopping limply. 

Tenma...had to wonder what he was doing here alone. If something had happened, then those boys should still be hidden, not sneaking around. They were supposed to wait for Grimmer or someone else to collect them, to let them know it was all right. For Dieter to be here right now…

Tenma reached out, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

“It’s all right, Dieter. You’re all right. Just breathe for me and try to calm down.”

With his other hand, he slowly coaxed the blade from Dieter’s grip. As soon as it fell from his hand, the boy leaned forward, allowing himself to be held by the angel. Tenma embraced the child, fingers pulling through his hair gently as he did his best to soothe him. Dieter kept his face buried against the angel’s chest, much closer than Tenma ordinarily would allow even those children, but the way things were right now, it was clear he needed it. 

A shadow moved behind them that caused the boy to grip a little tighter, though he relaxed once he saw it was only Heckel crouching down beside the pair.

“Doesn’t look like anybody’s been ‘round here in a while. I’m gonna go ahead, check on the others. You stay quiet 'n get to the usual meeting place. Just cause nobody’s around it don’t mean they ain’t close, so keep your head down.”

Tenma didn’t have time to answer before the other man had disappeared, leaving him with a slowly calming Dieter. He didn’t let go of the boy; if he needed this, then pulling away too soon would only leave him in a deeper state of stress. Eventually the boy did pull away, leaving the angel’s shirt rather damp from tears, though he didn’t mind in the least. Dieter pulled his legs up to his chest, wiping his eyes as he looked up to Tenma.

“What were you doing here by yourself? Why weren’t you with the other boys?”

Tenma used a softer voice, trying not to chastise him. As dangerous as it was to be alone right now, scolding the boy wouldn't help. Dieter gave no response, his gaze falling downcast, toward his dagger again. A few seconds later, whatever was troubling him seemed to come back in full force, because he made a small, strangled sound and squeezed his eyes shut. He started taking short, gasping breaths, leaning back against Tenma as the tears started fresh. There would be no answer for now, though Tenma could only imagine what had the boy in such a state. He felt a twist in his gut, putting an arm around the boy again.

He wasn’t going to get any answers right now. Not the way Dieter was. He needed to calm down, get his breathing under control.

* * *

Tenma didn’t know how long it was before he made his way to the old oak, to that place the boys often met for situations like this. Every sound around them had the angel on edge; he had managed to keep his composure for this long, but he could feel the anxious energy starting to bubble toward the surface. When they reached the oak, he brought a hand to his chest, fingers curling inward as his other hand gripped at his wrist almost painfully. He closed his eyes and just breathed, concentrating on the sensation of his own grip, on the sounds and smells around him.

For just a little longer, he had to keep himself composed. He had to seem confident and assured for Dieter's sake. 

It took time, but slowly the rest of the boys filtered in through the Glade. The first to arrive were Wim and Antonin, who immediately flocked to Dieter. They seemed at least a little more composed, though Tenma was reluctant to start asking too many questions. He let the boys take a minute to assess the situation and recognize that Dieter was all right; if he was going to get any sort of information from them, they had to feel completely safe. 

It seemed, though, that they had the same idea; Antonin looked up at Tenma with a steady, if concerned, gaze. He kept wringing his hands, in a way that almost looked painful. He couldn't keep eye contact for more than a few seconds, seemingly ashamed to look up at the angel.

“We...we snuck out to help. But on the way back, Dieter…”

His lip quivered just a little, but he kept a calm about him, shaking his head.

“We got split up. He went off his own way and I didn’t notice...and when we tried calling he wouldn't answer. I wasn't a good leader. And now Dieter's...”

Antonin’s gaze went back to the smaller boy, his composure falling again. There was something...something that was missing. It was unusual for Dieter to act on his own like that, certainly in a dangerous situation like this. The three boys looked terribly shaken, uncharacteristically so; conflicts like this weren't unusual, not when they were so accustomed to raids from bandits who thought a party of orphan boys to be easy targets. Something else was going on, something that had affected these children terribly.

“What happened here?”

Tenma spoke gently, keeping the urgency out of his voice as best as he could. There was a quiet moment as the boys shared a glance, Wim giving a small nod, seemingly allowing the eldest of the boys to continue. Antonin swallowed, his gaze falling, little hands clenching into fists. He shook his head slowly, hair obscuring his face.

“I know Grimmer said to hide. And we did. But we were really worried and thought that there was something we could do. We...really tried to help him. We wanted to help somehow. But they…”

The boy broke off, his face twisting as he tried so, so hard to keep his own composure. As the eldest of them he had a little more restraint than the other children, but even he was struggling now, his cheeks turning a heated shade as he fought whatever feelings gnawed at him.

Finally, though, the boy spoke up, using a smaller voice still than before.

“They...did something really bad.”

It wasn’t much in the way of an answer. Tenma looked the boy over, noting the slight tremble in his hand. They definitely _saw_ something, but whatever it was…they seemed unwilling, or unable, to speak. Tenma could feel the dread in his gut, heavy like lead.

“They...took him, didn’t they.”

He tried to use a neutral tone; the last thing he wanted was for the boy to misinterpret his voice - to hear anger where it wasn’t. In no way could he blame something like that on these children. Antonin nodded, swallowing thickly, his gaze slipping down to his feet, his whole body starting to shake.

“He...fought but...they hurt him really bad.” he mumbled, his voice starting to crack again. “Really really bad.”

Dieter made an uncomfortable noise in his throat. Tenma glanced back at the boy, at the sharply intent way he was staring. Antonin's eyes fell too, seemingly on the very same spot, his lip trembling as he hiccuped softly. The both of them looked haunted, as though reliving something terrible. Tenma followed their gaze, curious as to just what it was that seemed to be sparking that horrible memory in those children.

And for just that moment, he felt his heart go still.

Antonin and Dieter... 

Their eyes were fixated on Dieter's dagger. The one he had dropped earlier. 

"He...was holding a guy. Told them to go away. But...behind..."

Antonin's voice was small and shaky. He raised a hand, holding an invisible weapon that he thrust forward, in a low, angled gesture. A sword, angled like that...if that angle was right, something from behind would go right through the ribcage. A little lower, and it would be his stomach. Both dangerous wounds.

Tenma pressed a hand to his mouth, shaking his head slowly. If these boys watched something like that...it was no wonder Dieter wouldn’t talk, no wonder they could barely get any words out. The angel shuddered, feeling his wings flatten against his back, phantom pains stirring from old wounds of his own. 

They...really had him. They had...and...

_Grimmer…_

And there was no telling what they would do to him.

* * *

Everyone else was perfectly well accounted for. Not a hair missing from their heads, untouched and safe as could be. But those boys had been wounded regardless; none of them saw, none except for those unfortunate three, but they _knew._

Grimmer was gone, taken away. Taken by the very men that had cast them out, had subjected them to terrible misery for arbitrary, superficial nothings. Grimmer had been the one to save them, to give them a home. And now that home felt empty.

Tenma...his presence created grave burden for these people.

All of this was tied to his presence in the Glade. Heckel might have turned his back on Tenma, but he couldn't hold even that against the man. He had made a decision to protect the children of his family. Given a chance to save them all, in exchange for an angel he barely knew...it was a decision made for family.

That vile plague had only come to the glade because they had chosen to protect an angel.

Tenma in no way blamed himself, but he recognized that he couldn't blame _Heckel_ for doing what he thought would save his people. Had he chosen not to act, there was no telling if those boys, if Grimmer, would have lived. Lord Heinemann's right hand man forced them into a situation that he would win, no matter the actions they took.

Tenma gripped his arms, driving his fingers into the skin almost painfully as he squeezed. Grimmer was _alive…_ they wanted him alive, to bait Tenma. He could be glad of at least that. But what they could do to him…

Tenma did his best not to think about it.

He heard Heckel's approach before the man made himself known - one small point of victory that his senses were starting to return. Still, he said nothing, merely facing into the wind, feeling the cool of its touch.

“Made somethin’ proper for you to eat. If you're still hungry.”

Heckel’s gesture was sincere, but Tenma really didn’t have much of an appetite. Not after the day’s events. Too much in the span of 24 hours had set him on edge in a bad way. 

But he knew...Grimmer would want him to eat.

He accepted the steaming bowl with a silent nod. Heckel opted to sit with him, though Tenma edged just a little ways away, to give himself just a bit of distance. The other man noticed, but didn’t make a comment. He probably understood the angel’s apprehension.

“They ain’t gonna kill him. Not so long as you’re here. If they really wanted him dead, they’da just done him in right here. The fact they took him away proves he’s alive.”

Tenma stared at the ground, brows knitting together. He knew that Heckel was just trying to put him at ease, but it did little to soothe his concerns. He leaned forward, not bothering to look up at the smaller man.

 _”I_ was alive.”

Tenma could feel an atmosphere of discomfort from the other man. It wasn’t quite fair for him to make that kind of comparison, considering that Grimmer was human and there was no way he could endure the same breadth of suffering an angel could, but all the same trying to reassure Tenma that Grimmer was ‘alive’ wouldn’t be enough. Not when he knew just how little that meant. Heckel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and dragging his hand down the length of his face in apparent misery.

“It ain’t ideal. I mean I know that. It ain't good 'n he was hurt pretty bad from what the kids're sayin'. All I’m tryna say is we don’t wanna do somethin’ stupid. You rush in there ‘n try to save him the way you are now, they’re gonna catch you real easy. And then he _will_ die. His best chances ta survive is if you lay low for a bit.”

He reached out to touch Tenma’s shoulder, and the angel tensed, wings twitching as he shifted backward. Heckel hesitated, pulling his hand back with a mumbled apology, that guilt flickering behind his eyes.

“We’re gonna save him. If we got you out, we can get him out too.”

Tenma lowered his head in a half-nod, focusing back on the bowl he’d been handed. Ordinarily Heckel’s cooking was something that made him feel at least a little more at ease, but right now he couldn’t find it in himself to enjoy it. There really was no flavour to the food. It slithered almost uncomfortably down his throat, just this bland tasteless nothing that didn’t seem to fill an emptiness, whose warmth did little to ease his chills and just settled heavily in his stomach.

“I woulda done this different if I could, ya know. I went through everything.”

Tenma hesitated a moment, sparing a sidelong glance through curtains of dark hair. Heckel’s remorse was genuine, something that was going to haunt the man for a long time. But hearing him apologise again wasn’t something Tenma could handle right now.

“I understand that. I know. But right now, I just…”

His gaze lowered and he shook his head.

“Sorry. I need to think.”

Heckel relaxed a little, at least seeming to understand that Tenma’s standoffishness wasn’t hostile or accusatory. He stood, taking one last look at the angel.

“You should try 'n get some rest. S’been a rough day. We'll talk more in the mornin'.”

Tenma watched him go, glad the man had chosen to give him his solitude.

Try to get some rest...

 _Try_ was a good, fitting word.

* * *

Heckel himself slept pretty damn well all things considered. ‘N for once he sorta wished he hadn’t. It just felt a little tasteless...after all he’d done he somehow got rewarded with a full night’s sleep. This whole situation was easier on him than he ever woulda thought.

For whatever reason, Tenma hadn’t told those boys ‘bout what he did. How he was the one who sold out their papa ‘n nearly had the angel captured right along with him. Didn’t tell ‘em because...well probly cause he didn’t wanna make those kids suspicious when they were already scared. They needed soembody ‘n Tenma knew that. 

Still, it made him feel more ‘n a little awful when those kids came up to him lookin’ for comfort. This sorta thing was never what he was good at ‘n now more than ever it felt real wrong comin’ from him. But he’d live with it.

Least till they got the big guy back.

He...never woulda thought Grimmer'd lose a fight. Not here, where he'd come ta be known by that stupid title a his. They all joked that one day he'd get carried off when they got sick a him but now that it really happened...

It just all felt wrong really. They won a real cheap way; he was still recoverin', it wasn't a true victory. If Grimmer was at his full potential there was no way these nobodies woulda beat him. If only for a proper rematch, ta keep up his reputation, they needed ta get him back. Get their family back.

The fact Heckel was able ta sneak in, get a chat with Schumann’s girl ‘n sneak out again was proof it could be done. Wouldn't be easy, it'd be a lot stricter, but if they were careful...it could be done. Nothin' was impossible. If Heckel wanted somethin' he found a way ta get it.

They could get in at sundown, break out Grimmer and get out again, if they played their cards right. Relyin’ on that fishing village wasn’t somethin’ Heckel liked ta do, but they needed numbers ‘n those guys owed Grimmer a lot. Gettin’ a few guys ta join him wouldn’t be hard. The trouble was gonna be handlin’ the guards. There was no way they’d leave somebody like Grimmer to some junior kid; he was gonna be under tight scrutiny.

But hell, even that...Heckel had a couple ideas. It was gonna take ‘em some time, but they’d get that idiot back. And then, they’d probably...pack up ‘n leave the glade.

Wasn’t somethin’ he wanted ta do, the place had sorta become this haven he got use ta livin’ in, but...things bein’ the way they were it wasn’t safe. Least not for a while. But the focus for now was Grimmer. On plannin' the ins and outs of...gettin' in and...gettin' out. In one piece. Alive.

Heckel was a little surprised that by mid-morning Tenma still hadn't got up. That guy seemed way too restless ta get any sleep, but then maybe he’d finally just exhausted himself. He didn’t wanna bother the guy all things considered, but if they were gonna have this discussion then he needed Tenma awake enough that he could understand.

He made his way to the cabin, where Tenma seemed to feel the most at home. He was surprised not ta see the guy hangin’ out on the roof, where he usually spent his nights. Somethin’ about feelin’ more free or whatever. 

Heckel rapped a couple times on the door. Could be he’d just decided to spend the mornin’ to himself, wouldn’t be all that surprisin’. 

“I’m comin’ in, alright? Not tryna intrude but we gotta talk.”

He made sure he was loud enough Tenma could hear him before he pushed the door open.

Wasn’t any sign of him inside. Which wasn’t that big a surprise, coulda been he wandered off to the fields or somethin’. But Heckel had this...sorta bad feelin’ bout it. Just a little paranoid maybe, but it still clenched in his gut anyway.

If that stupid angel’d gone off ‘n not told ‘em…

Heckel tugged at his ponytail, letting out a heavy sigh. 

“I think ya might be stupider than him after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bleh, well it's finally done at least! I really hate relying on plot convenience and unrealistic logic but I didn't wanna cheat my way out with a "and then they escaped" so here's my rough version. The good news is Tenma is free! But he's also boutta do something dumb. Bless his heart.


	15. Into the Keep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruh this story has been kicking me in the arse but I think we're finally down to the last 2 chapters!

Tenma chose to leave while the Glade was still and silent, sleepy and unknowing of the runaway angel's actions.

He knew it wasn't wise, that this was entirely foolish, but none of this was decided with rationality; the angel had made a conscious decision, a choice to face this alone.

The only reason that Grimmer had been taken...that the Glade had been attacked...was because the humans who lived there decided to be kind to him. People who...while they weren’t hurting to survive, had every understandable motivation to sell the angel, but didn’t. He couldn’t just forget that sort of thing. But involving them any further was out of the question.

He knew they wanted to help. This was about Grimmer now...about _family_. But to Tenma...that was all the more reason he _couldn’t_ drag them deeper into this. Most of them were children. And while they were capable enough, he could never willfully place them directly in harm’s way. The only person that Tenma was comfortable risking at the cost of life and limb was himself. 

Tenma left long before dawn; it was easier this way, without having to explain himself. It gave him a head start. Those boys were probably going to try to save their father anyway; like this, Tenma had an opportunity to save him even before they woke the following morning.

He wore Grimmer’s hooded cowl - deep green and familiar, a strange comfort as it hugged his shoulders, hid his wings from view. To the average passerby who might spy him he seemed little more than a weary traveler, and that would serve him for now, as he made the arduous journey to that place, through the woods and across the plainsland to the sickening utopia built on the backbone of angelic fortune. 

Tenma left the Glade knowing that he might not be back. Knowing just how much was at risk. If he failed, if he was caught, then Lord Heinemann had everything. But hiding out and waiting until they killed the only human he could truly trust simply wasn’t an option. 

He could feel the hairs at the back of his neck standing on end as he approached that foreboding structure beyond the wild wood. At this distance it loomed in the dark, cold and unnerving against the deep shaded sky. He was _intentionally_ heading toward that place, gated in gold and guarded against those deemed unfit for its supposed paradise. 

Tenma remembered the opening of those gates. A slow, quiet creak of the hinges. There had been a procession of onlookers as he was carried through, staring at him like some strange but magnificent creature. There were loud voices, saying things he didn’t remember, couldn’t make out over the din. And then drifting darkness, those nightmare months…

He really had believed he wouldn’t leave. 

Now...he was on his way back, willingly approaching the den of those who would cage him, take away the sunlight once more.

He’d be lying to himself, if he said he wasn’t afraid. 

He _was_ afraid. Afraid of making a mistake, of failing. Afraid of what would happen then - to the others, to himself. Tenma knew that he wouldn’t...he wouldn’t be able to resist for much longer, before he succumbed, before he fell.

He felt his wings twitch and flutter involuntarily, a faint reminder that as of yet he was _fine._ And he noticed something else. Something that hadn’t been obvious at first, but struck him now, with the sudden shudder of his wings. The angel paused completely in his trek, rolling his shoulders, testing the muscles of his upper back. Closing his eyes, he let out a slow breath as he unclasped his cloak, letting it pool around his feet.

He could definitely feel it, that tension in his wings...the tightness, the soreness of the membrane was...faint, faded. They felt lighter. And as he eased his wings to spread, they definitely felt...they were still _sore,_ it still _hurt,_ but it wasn’t nearly like it had been before.

Tenma had...only been in the Glade a few weeks. A few weeks...in that time he had worsened, but being so suddenly exposed to a different environment...that was probably to be expected. Grimmer had told him that he _would_ recover. Tenma...at the time Tenma hadn’t believed him.

No...he hadn’t believed in himself.

It had been Grimmer's hope that kept him afloat, who had been convinced that Tenma could heal. Grimmer had been the one to instill that encouragement, to hold onto that belief, to ignite even just the smallest of sparks.

Now...Tenma _had_ to believe in himself, for Grimmer’s sake.

He looked up, at the slowly brightening sky that had turned a gentle shade of yellow-orange. A morning breeze tickled his feathers, his face, soothing what little it could. Slowly, Tenma bent to pull the cowl back around his shoulders, drawing the hood down over his face.

Here forward, he had to be careful. The daylight, though warm, was not kind enough to conceal him.

* * *

Hunger gnawed at Grimmer’s stomach, though the pain was minimal compared to his wounds.

Hours ago he had been given a bowl of somewhat questionable looking gruel and a glass of water, though opted to ignore both; he couldn’t say what might be in it, if there was any intention to poison him or cloud his mind. The tyrant Lord seemed to want him alive - if for no other reason than to serve as the catalyst to Tenma’s fall - but there were plenty of other toxins they could have him ingest, to make him more complacent, to loosen lips, to put him under.

So, he refused to eat and drink. 

For now, he rested. He stayed as still as he could, eyes closed, with his head resting against the uncomfortable stone wall. It was solid foundation, he’d checked; his nails were raw where he’d tried to claw at loose rubble, but it had been fruitless. There wasn’t enough give, not enough that he could work with. Just little particles of dust and sand under his nails. With some sort of a tool, maybe, but…

“Tryin’ the same trick as the angel? It’s not gonna work for you. You’ll die if you don’t eat.” 

Grimmer cracked open an eye, a slow, lazy smirk crossing his lips as he peered up at the same fellow who’d brought him his suspicious meal. He let his eye slip closed again.

“You’re going to execute me tomorrow, I thought.” he quipped, his tone airy, matter of fact. “It’ll take longer than that for someone to starve. So I don’t think it makes a difference.” 

The man responded with a hiss and a mutter that he couldn’t quite decipher. 

“If you got wit enough to lip at me then you got the energy to stand. Get up ‘n turn around, palms on the wall. Your bandages need to be changed.”

So, they were opening up his cage, as it were. Grimmer thought about using that to his advantage; playing up the injury, then trying to dash. But as he pulled himself to his feet, he could feel the sharp sting at his back, still fresh and tender. A little higher and that wound probably would have punctured a lung, at the very least. Any sort of sudden movement now would only upset that injury. If he lost too much blood, he’d just pass out. It wasn’t worth it.

He did as he was asked, then, palms flat against the craggy stone wall. He heard the click of the lock, the creak of hinges. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, he could see that the dim-witted fellow was no longer alone; at his side, cloaked as ever, was the fallen angel Johan.

He turned a lovely smile on the man beside him, raising a hand dismissively.

“You may go. I’ll relieve you for now.”

He raised the ring of keys he kept beneath his cloak, the soft jangling catching the other man’s attention. He gave a quiet, incomprehensible grunt as he shuffled off, though not before stealing a hostile little glower at Grimmer. Only once he’d left did Johan begin his approach, that serene smile still gently lit upon his face.

“It seems you’re a bit of a nuisance. I’m not sure you understand your situation.”

Grimmer tilted his head, turning a deep blue smirk toward the fallen.

“Oh, I understand just fine. But I’d rather enjoy myself a little bit before I die.”

Johan chuckled, a seemingly genuine sound as he approached Grimmer. Despite himself, the man found his body going tense at the fallen angel’s touch. He understood there was no purpose in killing him now, but the young man was nothing if not an unnerving presence; those same hands had inflicted a terrible sickness on him, on his band of rogues. They were careful now, peeling soiled bandages from his middle. He felt the sting of alcohol, followed by the softer application of gauze and bandages that were wrapped - tightly, but not terribly so.

“You seem to be…” Grimmer started, cutting himself off with a hiss. He took a slower breath, started again. “...taking quite a bit of care for someone you plan to kill very soon.”

There was a pause, those hands halting completely as Johan hummed.

“And you seem awfully calm, for a man whose remaining lifespan could be counted by the hour.”

It was difficult to say, but it seemed as though Johan was enjoying this, their little back-and-forth. Or perhaps he simply wore a clever mask of his emotions. Grimmer let a wry little smile touch at his lips, closing his eyes.

“I’m planning to escape before that happens. There’s too much left for me to do before I die.”

There was a chuckle once again, then a clap on his shoulder - amicable, if a little unexpected; he tensed, though only for a moment.

“A bold claim. Though I suppose anything is possible. The Lord certainly wouldn’t be happy, if that happened. His mood is already quite foul, you know.”

That seemed an… _odd_ thing to say. Grimmer tilted his head, turning around slowly as Johan stepped away once more. The fallen angel gave no hint as to his intentions, his hands clasped neatly in front of him as ever, those piercing eyes staring deep into his own.

“It seems my cohort hasn’t been as obedient as I might have hoped. Even that sort of human came to your angel’s defense.”

Though he was speaking to Grimmer, it felt as though those marvelous eyes were staring through him, past him. Johan was reflecting, though on what, it was hard to say. Exactly why he would say so much to Grimmer was still unclear. There was a sigh, then, and a shrug.

“I suppose it comes to you, then. I’ll have to use you, if I’ll ever regain my freedom.”

Nothing had been said of yet. Even so, the boldness of those words, so delicately spoken, sent a chill down Grimmer’s spine.

* * *

What Tenma noticed, as he neared the gated border, was the dead silence. 

He’d expected to encounter patrols along the way, but the surrounding grove seemed to be unguarded. From his hidden view just beyond the reaches of the light, he could see that even the gate looked to be abandoned, left with no one to guard it. Though that should have given him an advantage, to Tenma it felt wrong, as though something bigger was waiting. 

His senses hadn’t yet returned to full capacity, so he couldn’t be completely sure he was alone, but even if he was...that was suspect to the angel. It was like a honey trap - clearing the entrance, making it seem more inviting. With Grimmer as a hostage...they knew he was probably coming. If Tenma breached Heine’s walls, he would find himself inside the Lord’s stronghold, where he would be the most vulnerable. Reducing security measures was probably a lure. They _wanted_ him to make his way inside. 

He caught sight of something fluttering near the gate, something that he hadn't noticed before. At his distance it was difficult to make out details, but it seemed to be some sort of flag or sheet stuck onto a stake in the ground. He edged in closer, careful to keep low as he neared the end of the grove. In the faint morning light, he could see a little more clearly; it was neither a flag nor a sheet, but a familiar earthy tunic, stained red and marked with slashes.

There was no doubt now. That was for his eyes only; an invitation and a warning.

Tenma pulled the hood lower over his face, clutching lightly at the fabric. Its weight over his shoulders brought him some small amount of comfort, concealing his identity as he tread along the fringes of the grove. He was going to have to clear a narrow, open flatland before he made it to the walls. If anyone _was_ watching, he’d be spotted immediately. And with that message at the gate...he couldn't trust the peaceful silence. He needed another way in.

He stumbled just a little, and brought a hand out to rest against one of the trees. Between his elevated heart rate and general lack of sleep, he wasn’t in the best shape right now. Unfortunately Lord Heinemann wasn’t going to wait to let him, or anyone, rest. The angel took a slow, deep breath as he eased himself, closing his eyes for a few seconds. It was the best he could afford himself for any sort of break. He listened to the wind, to the quiet sounds of morning as birds started to wake, the leaves rustling.

The faint sound of crunching twigs.

The angel concealed himself in the shadows of a dead tree, listening as the sounds drew nearer, nearer. He could see movement, and placed a hand over his mouth, drawing slow, deep breaths through his nose. 

What emerged was no soldier, but a girl; perhaps in her late teens, she carried a basket over her arm and seemed to be looking around with a certain degree of suspicion. Tenma couldn’t say what she was doing out here so early, but she was dangerously close to spotting him. She even stopped for a moment, frowning as a hand went to cover her basket. She let out a low sigh.

“You can’t keep doing this. One of these days you won’t make it back, and I’ll get caught up in it because of you.”

Tenma didn’t answer, but found himself just a little confused. She seemed to be aware he was trying to sneak inside, but had him confused for someone else. She was aware of...someone else coming and going from Heine. Her grip tightened on the basket in her hands.

“I’ve done all I can for you right now. Go back to those boys.”

Tenma’s wings twitched beneath his cloak. He remembered something that Heckel had said, about...Schumann, or something like that. A doctor...it was possible this was that person.

She seemed a bit more wary, though, with the continued silence. She slowly lowered her basket, reaching instead into her sock to pull what looked like a small dagger. By now she probably assumed he was a threat. And Tenma…

“Don’t. I’m not looking for a fight.”

She wasn't a guard. He didn't know if she was someone he could trust, but at the very least he had to diffuse the situation. And more than that...

“You thought I was Heckel, didn’t you?”

She hesitated, but didn’t lower the weapon. She seemed to take a moment, brow furrowed as she thought. Finally, she looked up, directly toward Tenma. Her hand was shaking just a little. 

“Are you…”

Her voice was hesitant, unsure. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. When she spoke again, it was with a voice barely above a whisper, barely heard even by Tenma.

“What are you _doing_ here.”

It was more statement than question. the tone foreboding and concerned. He was cautious of making any assumptions - that she had deduced who he was - but it seemed likely. She had mentioned the “boys”. There was no doubt who she was talking about. There were only so few people he could possibly be. The angel thought for a moment, weighing his answer carefully before he spoke. Just a single word.

“Grimmer.”

Tenma opted to be honest, but cautious. If she knew about the Glade, then she could draw her own conclusions as to who he was, if not Heckel or Grimmer. She heaved a shuddering sigh, lowering the dagger finally as she stooped to pick up her basket again.

“Don’t. That’s what they _want._ He’s bait to catch you.”

Tenma clenched a hand into a fist, narrowing his eyes. He already knew that he was being baited. But he also knew...Grimmer was badly injured. To them, Grimmer was no longer a person. As that girl said, he was bait; once Tenma was captured, he would simply be disposed of. Tenma's fingertips traced the rough bark of the tree he’d hid himself in, eyes slipping closed.

“I have to.” he whispered, offering no real explanation. “I _have_ to.”

The girl stared into the shadows, eyes narrowed. Finally, though, her shoulders deflated and she let out a dismayed sigh.

“I can get you inside. But I'm going to need you to work with me.”

* * *

It seemed there were ways to circumnavigate even a walled-in fortress like Heine, secret tunnel routes that Tenma could only assume had gone unchecked by the crown. It seemed well-used, though, so he had to wonder just how it could have gone unnoticed. His silent question seemed to be inferred as the girl turned a glance toward him as they went deeper in. 

“This is a checkpoint for smugglers. Illegal goods shipped in and out of Heine come through here. It’s how most of those boys escaped. We try not to use it that much, so it won't be closed down.”

We. The implication was that perhaps there were others who supported the outcasts of Heine. Though, now it made sense why those paths existed; if Lord Heinemann was as corrupt as he was cruel, having undocumented trade routes like this wouldn’t be that strange. At least right now it worked to his favour. 

The girl brought him to what he could only assume was her home, just beyond the border. She ushered him inside, shutting the door behind them both. Despite himself, Tenma was tense; she seemed to be an ally, but he couldn’t help the feeling of being walled in. He pulled the hood from his face, though kept the cloak on for now.

The girl set about making tea, really the last thing on Tenma’s mind, though he didn’t feel he was in a place to argue. She seemed to notice his unease, offering a sympathetic smile. 

“I know you just want to run in and save him. But if I’m being honest, I don’t think you know what you’re doing. Take a minute and recover a bit of strength. Come up with some sort of strategy.”

She was blunt, but it was true; he really _didn’t_ have a plan, outside of saving Grimmer. Tenma relaxed at least a little, still just a little anxious in an unfamiliar place. The girl brought her tea over, setting a cup opposite her and gesturing for Tenma to take a seat. He lowered down, albeit reluctantly. He was handling it better than he thought, though. As he took a sip of the drink, he could feel her eyes on him, and his own golden hues flicked up. She didn’t turn away nervously, just kept watching him with an analytical, curious sort of look.

“I couldn’t believe it when those pigs really captured an angel. I didn’t think it could happen.”

Tenma did his best not to respond, but his grip tensed just a little despite himself. She didn’t seem to notice, almost lost in her thoughts. She looked dazed, or even a little haunted, unnerved.

“We didn’t do anything. We were too afraid to expose ourselves. Didn't want to risk jeopardizing the group. If that soldier hadn’t gone to the Glade…”

She glared into her tea, shaking her head. Both quieted then, taking a moment just to drink their tea. It was soothing, certainly helped to ease the nerves however much Tenma wanted to say he didn’t need it. He closed his eyes, though he could feel the girl watching him, as he always could. Being observed was nothing new, something he learned to detect.

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

An eye snapped open, the angel becoming just a little more guarded. His wings twitched beneath Grimmer’s cloak, and he tensed involuntarily. The look on her face showed no malice, and she had done nothing to reach toward him or close the distance whatsoever. She was waiting, as Grimmer had. But he still…

“I would prefer…” he started, lowering his gaze a little sheepishly. “I would prefer if you didn’t.”

The young woman didn’t argue, simply nodding and taking another sip of her tea.

“I understand.”

Her voice was gentler, a little more sympathetic than the tone she had used before. She held her tea to her lips, closing her eyes again.

“I know that was bold of me. I'd thought that there might be a way I could help. It’s true that I’m a doctor, but I don’t know that there’s much I could do for you as an angel.”

Tenma relaxed again, nodding slowly. He felt a lot more at ease, watching her and knowing that she wasn’t going to try to change his mind; he’d refused and that was enough for her. She set her drink down, staring into it with a tired sort of look.

“If you’re going to rescue Grimmer...you’re welcome to use our hidden passages. It won’t get you far, but you’ll at least make it into the grounds without being spotted. I can’t promise anything, but I might be able to enlist a few to help you. We can create a diversion to draw attention while you focus on Grimmer. But you’re going to have to wait.”

He didn’t _want_ to wait. There was no telling what Lord Heinemann had done to Grimmer by now. Even if they wouldn’t kill him, there was a lot that could be done even to a human. Still, it sounded like he had a better chance to save him with the help of this...he could only assume, small underground organization. If they could get him inside, that was more than he could manage alone. But even so...

“He was badly injured when they took him. A stab wound to the back. The longer I wait…”

Gold eyes settled back on the girl, and he took a slow breath.

“I’ll wait as long as I can, but that’s not much. I don’t want him to suffer.”

She seemed to understand, a grim look crossing her face as she nodded.

“He’s probably going to try something...try to escape on his own.”

Neither took those words as any form of good news; wounded like that, if Grimmer pushed himself too hard, it would only make things worse.

* * *

She left twice that afternoon; even though the girl was sheltering him, she still had her duties as a doctor in her father’s absence - and there was making contact with that group, to let them know her plans. It gave Tenma time to think; it was easier, when it was quiet.

The small bit of good news was that he was starting to notice his senses grow sharper; taking time to sit and rest was helping, something he hadn’t been able to allow himself as of yet. 

He knew...Grimmer wouldn’t want him to push himself like this. But just the same...Tenma had asked him to be careful. It seemed they’d both failed to mind each other’s wishes.

If the intent was to execute Grimmer after capturing Tenma, then the use of the networked paths would be paramount to his success. Places to hide, to move quickly, to stay out of sight. He could definitely recall where Grimmer would be held...that place was vividly burned into his mind. It would just be getting him out that would pose difficult. A way to break him out....

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he caught faint traces of movement coming toward the doctor’s home. There were two - a purposeful gait, heavier than the light-footed girl. There was no _guarantee_ it was hostile, or that the encroaching footsteps were coming to her home at all, but it seemed just a little too convenient, only a few hours since he arrived. The doctor seemed to be of the mind that patrols were on the lookout for him within Heine’s walls, so there was a good chance they were searching homes near the border. Without the good doctor to refuse their entry, now was the opportune time.

He couldn’t get an accurate read on just how close they were, but he knew it was too near for him to try making a run for it. Door or window, it didn’t leave much room for him to escape unseen. Which meant that for now, he had to hide. Defend himself. 

He crept into the back, in what seemed to be a sort of supply room. There were labelled jars with names that didn’t make much sense to his otherwise occupied mind. What he did understand, though, was that the glass pitcher to his left could probably be weaponized. With the space in this room, all he needed was to lure them beyond the door, and then fend them off enough...just enough that he could get by them, shut them inside.

There was no knock on the door; it simply opened, those heavy footfalls coming closer. A small part of him wondered if the doctor had been caught or compromised, had led them here herself, but he dismissed it quickly; she didn’t seem like the sort who would, and right now...Tenma needed to be able to trust. 

“Should’ve never left him to Becker. He was lazy from the start.”

"He got what was coming to him. Don't know what he was thinking, going off to that phantom thief..." 

“Well, in a way it helped us out, don't you think? This time we got Grimmer for real. Once we weed out his angel we got _two_ problems behind us.”

“You mean like...like killing two birds with one stone, yeah?”

Both chuckled.

To them, this was just another job; a routine check, search the home and move on to the next. There wasn’t much chance Tenma could just wait for them to leave; not unless they were careless, and didn’t bother searching all rooms. That wasn’t much to count on, though. Still he stayed deadly silent, biting down despite their crass remarks. He pushed himself into the wall, lowering down as he heard those footfalls growing nearer.

“What’re the chances she’s got him hid here somewhere? I mean, if he’s not moved on already…”

“Well just think. She got rescued by the doc, right? Maybe she’s got some sorta...feels like she can relate so she wants to help him.”

“Or she wants a live sample. Lot cheaper when you’re the supplier.”

Tenma grimaced, but kept his mouth shut. He heard the footsteps come to a halt, saw faint shadows moving beyond the door. Tenma drew a slow breath in through his nose, gripping the pitcher tightly in his hands, so much so his knuckles started to whiten. They were right outside the...

Somewhere further away, a door slammed.

"Just what's...."

There was more scuffling and a muttered curse.

“Ma'am, sorry about the inconvenience, but we’re-”

“Get out.”

Tenma...hadn’t heard her approach. Didn’t notice; he was too focused on the sounds immediately outside the door. But if she was here…

The shadows moved away from the door. He could still see them, so they hadn’t left, but they had moved further away, probably toward the doctor. That didn't particularly make him much happier.

“We’re carrying out orders. It'll just be a few minutes. Once we’ve confirmed you’re not sheltering illegals, we’ll be on our way.”

So that was the excuse. Lord Heinemann probably wanted to keep his presence quiet, and purging illegal immigrants was a logical and simple cover. Tenma could practically feel the high tension coming from the terseness of the conversation.

“You can’t open that door.” 

Her voice was even, but there was an urgency to it. The soldiers didn’t seem fazed in the least.

“And why’s that?”

“The medicinal compounds I have in storage can’t be exposed to external contaminants. You’ll turn it all to waste.”

It was a smart response - almost enough for Tenma to question if it might be true. Even so he knew it wouldn’t be enough to put the lord’s men off of their hunt. He just had to hope that the doctor would be able to read the situation when Tenma made his eventual move.

“Hate to say, but you’ll have to start fresh. Can’t overlook any possibilities, doctor.”

The door creaked, opening slowly as it was pushed. Tenma stayed in his crouch, waiting as he listened to the heavy footfalls coming inside. If he could get away with hiding...with not being spotted, then he might not even need to act. But that was too much to hope for; he was terribly visible in his little alcove, something that was most certainly noticed when those footfalls came to a halt.

Tenma took his opportunity while he still had a degree of surprise to his favour.

He sprang to his feet, using the pitcher like a bludgeon; it collided hard against the man’s face, and he heard what was definitely a crack as the man dropped backward. Tenma made a dash for the door, didn’t even look behind him to make sure the first man was down. He saw a shadow ahead of him and brought his makeshift weapon up once more, striking forward.

The downed soldier’s leg slid forward, delivering a mild kick to the back of Tenma’s knees; not enough to hurt, but certainly enough to throw his balance. His attempted second strike fell short as he stumbled.

There was no opportunity to strike back, no chance to make one last stand. The man he’d failed to hit relieved him of his weapon with one hand, striking forward with the flat of his palm with the other and driving Tenma roughly into the wall. The angel slid down, fighting a dizzy spell as he watched a tall shadow converge so that his assailant stood over the felled angel.

“We’ll take them both in.”

No.

“Once you can stand, go on ahead and notify the captain. I’ll manage them both myself.”

_No._

Tenma tried again, propelling himself forward with a raised arm to strike, but the man grabbed it with ease and twisted, rendering the angel’s attempts futile. There was a scuffle of movement somewhere beyond his field of view, followed quickly by a crash and a gasp.

“Let’s not get feisty. You’ll be tried as an accomplice to the theft of the lord’s property, there’s no need to add refusal to cooperate with the law and violence toward the crown. You’re a talented doctor. It would be a shame to see that go to waste.”

She probably said something, but Tenma didn’t hear. He’d had enough...enough of being tread upon, treated like some animal to be kept and caged. In the past...he'd stopped caring. When it had looked like there was nothing...that there was no end, he’d let himself accept it, but now…

“I’m...not… _property_.” 

Despite everything, there was power behind his voice. Even if he couldn't defend himself like this, he at least could defend his dignity. It seemed to take the soldiers off guard, though only for a moment, as the one restraining him started to chuckle. 

“A line like that would have more impact if you weren’t currently-”

He didn’t finish.

There was a whizzing sound, then a grunt from the man who still menaced Tenma, his grip slackening on the angel’s forearm. From below, Tenma could see where red started to stain his attire, just below the shoulder.

“Shit, that was spose ta getcha in the back of the head. Whatever. Just back off nice and slow.”

Even with his view obstructed, Tenma knew that voice.

The soldier seemed to tighten his resolve, releasing Tenma as he spun to face the third figure in the doorway. He wasn’t quick enough to act, though, and took another arrow, this time to the other shoulder.

“Right, so that was the wrong answer. You cramped yourself in a corner where ya got no room to move like a stupid person, and ya kinda pissed me off. So if I were you I’d give this one up.”

There was a thoughtful pause, no one making a move for a long while. The soldier didn’t seem willing to move, though it didn’t matter; Tenma took the opportunity to pull his arm free, getting to his feet slowly. He was a little unsteady, but given a few minutes it would pass. Truthfully he felt better now than he had since Grimmer first came for him. He stared at the soldier more evenly, his gold gaze cutting and cold. Like this, it would've been easy for him simply to reach out, take that arrow embedded in his shoulder and _twist_. But Tenma...wouldn't stoop to their level. He just stared the man down with that frigid gaze.

“I’m not property.” 

Without another word, he eased past the man. No resistance was given, but the soldier wasn’t a fool; one move to harm Tenma or the young doctor and he’d find himself embedded with another arrow. 

It was the doctor herself who took care of their unwanted guests, administering a mild sedative to put them under. Heckel had disarmed and was making his way over, giving both Tenma and the young woman a brief look over - though really, if anyone was qualified to assess their state of injury it was the doctor herself. The shorter man tugged at his ponytail, glancing back toward the door.

“It’s lucky I got in when I did. If I’m bein’ honest I wouldn’t a thought you’d be here. I came lookin' for _her_.” He paused, his expression growing serious. “You good, both of ya?”

The doctor pulled fingers through her hair. “I’m fine. Just a few bruises. They didn’t really take me as a serious threat.”

Tenma’s response was a nonverbal nod, his eyes narrowing as he looked over Heckel.

“If you’re here…” he started, trying to keep a moderate tone, “then those boys…”

“It’s their fight too.”

Heckel cut him off, crossing his arms. “You got a lotta nerve when you decided to run off ‘n do this alone. I get bein’ a solo act, but we took ya in which means there’s a lotta people worryin’ about ya. It’s not just a you thing, we all got stakes in this.”

Tenma opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off again as Heckel raised a hand to hush him. 

“Before ya lose your head I ain't just comin' here with a buncha kids. We got us a bit of help, folks on the outside who’ve got good reason to wanna take down the crown. They're waitin' out in the woods till I give 'em orders. We’ll make a stink, draw the guards out. _You_ go in and get that idiot outta prison before they....y'know.”

Tenma...really _couldn’t_ make any sort of objection. In going alone, he'd probably made those boys worry even more. He was reluctant to let those boys fight, but if Heckel had enlisted help….

He didn’t know who it was; the men from the nearby fishing village, a short-term alliance with the bandit camps...but if Heckel had numbers, there was a good chance this could work. The doctor seemed to be taking mental notes, her focus going exclusively to Tenma.

“I can show you the quickest way in, but after that you’ll be on your own. If things go south, I’ll be standing by for support.”

It was more than what Tenma had imagined when he set out the night prior. He’d really intended to act on his own, to save Grimmer alone. He hadn’t wanted to involve anyone else...he _still_ didn’t, but he could no more deny it was their fight than they could deny him. Slowly, Tenma nodded.

“What matters is taking Grimmer back. The rest isn’t important. Avoid making the situation dangerous for yourselves. Once we have Grimmer...retreat when you have the chance. And after that...we’re going to go someplace safe.”

There was a shared nod between the three, a moment of silent communication, the unspoken _good luck_ and _be careful_. The doctor pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail, eyes on Tenma.

“Let's get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all coming to a close! Finally got the squad together on the offensive. Let's just hope nothing's happened to Grimmer in the meantime :)


	16. The Long Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINAL CHAPTER OH MY GOD it's done. It's done! There's lots more fighty stuff but also some sweet sweet tenderness. It all balances out!

It was just as the young doctor said; the passageways didn’t get the angel far. He was able to make it into the inner courtyard undeterred, but that was as far as the route would take him; from there he had to find his own way. 

Looking around, he could gauge where it was he needed to go. He remembered well enough where the prisoners were kept. No light reached that place; he’d been taken below ground level, somewhere damp. He could recall small details in brief flashes; the distinct shape of the tower where he was carried, the colour and texture of the walls. Looking around now, he could see the west tower - tall with a distinctive spire that looked incredibly delicate. With his hood pulled low, the angel made his way along through the courtyard, using the hedges to hide, though as was expected, the majority of Heine’s defense had scrambled to respond to three unique attacks on the wall.

At the center of the courtyard was a tall structure, ominous even in the sun’s glow. Its wood frame loomed overhead, with a sharply glinting blade suspended over a wide platform. Tenma set his jaw, fighting the cold wave that rolled over him, settling like ice in his bones.

Rather than be immobilized, he transformed that anxious fear into a driving energy, a force to move him more quickly. The sooner he had Grimmer, the sooner he could put that twisted image to rest.

For now he focused on tracing backward, through memories he’d rather not resurface. It wasn’t a place he wanted to be, or a time he wanted to remember. It made him feel sick and uneasy, but those memories were his source of information; they were vivid, clear, the fastest way he could trace back to where Grimmer would be held.

The angel had his hands balled into fists as he followed familiar checkpoints. Tall spire, hedge rows, cracked door, descending stone steps, lamp-lit halls. He could feel the change of the atmosphere, smelled the faintly moldy, stagnant air. He could feel prickling at the back of his neck, felt himself flinch a couple times, half expecting to be grabbed from somewhere in the shadows. 

He heard the faint drip of water, a familiar noise that he had come to concentrate on during that time, that kept his mind distracted from his surroundings. There were more lamps as he neared the walled-in prison, enough light to see who was inside, though he recalled it hadn’t been enough for him to clearly discern faces from within.

He froze when he reached the first occupied cell, looking down at the man inside. He was dead-eyed, breathing but not moving. Tenma took a slow breath and closed his eyes. That same man had been so chatty, so abrasively loud. It was a voice he’d come to despise, but...

Becker...had been the one to seek help.

_If it hadn’t been for that soldier…_

Becker was the reason…the _only_ reason that Grimmer had come to save him. Had he not have gone...the master of the glade would never know that Tenma was there to begin with. 

Tenma stared at the figure lying there in that dirty cramped cell, chest rising slowly, eyes blinking painfully slowly. He had disappeared all of a sudden, all contact to the Glade cut off. So this was why, then.

_"He got what was coming to him.”_

When Becker last came to the Glade seeking reconcile...Tenma had turned him away. Even now he didn’t know if he could forgive him. But he could still recognize...Becker had been instrumental to Tenma’s escape from this place. Without him it would never have happened. And now he was here, locked away on the verge of death.

“What will you do?”

The voice chilled Tenma, startling him from his brief thoughtfulness. His wings flared beneath Grimmer’s cowl and he righted himself as he stood to face the speaker, his heart leaping up into his throat. He hadn’t heard the approach, though he recognized the voice almost instantly. Sure enough, there he was - that eerie blonde man, Johan.

Exactly how long he had been there, Tenma was unsure. It was possible he’d been standing further along the entire time; it would explain why he hadn’t heard any approach, if he was already there, just out of view of the lamplight. Tenma took a few steps back, though the fallen angel had yet to make any advance; he simply stood, arms at rest at his sides, eyes downcast toward Becker.

There didn’t seem to be any immediate threat, though perhaps Johan was there as a warning against any further advance. There to stall him. Tenma glanced back toward Becker, his chest tightening.

“He’s going to die.” 

Neither looked up, though felt the shift in one another’s presence.

“He is.”

Tenma scowled, one hand halfway clenching.

“Why like this? If he’s just going to die then why…”

“It’s very simple, angel. Heine is ruled by a pig of a lord who enjoys prolonging the pain of those who cross him. An execution would be too plain. He suffers the fate of the angel he allowed to escape.”

Becker had been sincere. Even if Tenma wasn’t ready to forgive his inaction during those months, _this_ was wrong. He could feel Johan’s eyes on him, stark blue and piercing.

“What will you do?”

There was only one thing he _could_ do. To leave him was cruel. But right now...there was someone else, someone he had to find. The reason that he had come here to begin with.

Tenma started toward Johan, though he was not the angel’s target; his gaze followed the lining cells through the hall, empty cavern after empty cavern. The other man simply stood, stood and watched. There was a feeling, something crawling along Tenma’s spine. Something was….

He stopped, taking a slow, deep breath.

“Where.”

His voice came hoarsely, tired. It masked the bubble of anxious fear, though he was almost certain that Johan could feel it all the same. There was the soft sound of plodding steps as the lithe male came to join him.

“I thought about killing him. I thought about watching you from the shadows when you found his body. But I realized, that would give me no satisfaction.”

Where….

_Where…_

There was a sound. A jangling ring like keys, and the thud of heavy fabric pooling to the ground in the long, echoing hall. Tenma turned slowly, exhaustion reflected in gold. He really wasn’t surprised, when he saw those pitch-black wings. Even before Heckel’s confession, he’d thought it strange that any human could have the sort of knowledge that Johan did - to know how to fell an angel, what weakened him. Johan smiled that thin, ghostly wisp of a smile.

“I knew that you were strong, but I was surprised. Even weakened the way you are now, you thwarted me completely. I wasn’t able to do a thing to stop you. I still haven’t recovered, you know. My well is dry.” 

Tenma shook his head. In another situation, perhaps he could sympathize. This angel...this _fallen_ angel...Tenma understood what he had endured. The pain he suffered. This was the very angel who had been used to build the backbone of Heine’s strength, whose spirit had been sucked dry in that time. To escape that...willingly offering his power to a devil among men was hardly a choice that Tenma could loathe him for.

But now was not a time to sympathize. Johan was stalling.

“Where. I need to know where he is.”

Johan chuckled, shaking his head. He seemed entirely nonchalant, as though the angel across from him wasn’t in a state of desperation, wasn’t ready to turn on him. But the coiling tension in the atmosphere around them spoke otherwise.

“You’re not quite understanding. I said I had nothing to gain from his death. There’s someone else I would like to see dead. The death of that man would satisfy me, as I imagine it would satisfy your human and his mongrels.” Steely blue eyes captured Tenma’s with a knowing glint.

“I gave your human a choice. Die like a dog, or carry out my will.” 

Johan gave no names, said nothing more, but it wasn’t needed. The implication was plain as day. Tenma stood taller, taking a few steps back, tension twisting and squirming in his gut. Johan stood as coolly as ever, shaking his head.

“You’ll stay here, angel. You’ll stay here, or they’ll have you. You’re no master of the shadows as he is. Follow him, and you will without a doubt lose your wings.”

Tenma gritted his teeth, hands shaking. He could feel the uncomfortable twitch of his wings in agitation.

“Do you think he could succeed with those wounds? If he fails…”

“Had he refused, he would be dead right now. This way he has a chance to survive.”

Tenma set his jaw, his eye twitching, hands balled so tight into fists he could feel the digging of his nails, some small sharp pain to distract him.

“I don’t care for you or your human. What I want is to be free. I would feel the most satisfied if the lord of lies loses his head, but should that fail, I have you to present to his disgusting majesty. As I am now, I can only leave this place with the lord’s permission. I'm no less a prisoner than you were. What I want is to spread my wings, freely. And I’ll do anything to have that.”

There wasn’t anything that Tenma could do.

Wasn’t anything he could say.

Johan offered what seemed to be a sympathetic look, a sad little smile that fell hollowly on him.

“If he returns and Heinemann is dead, I have no reason to support that man and his filthy ways. You’ll leave with your human. But until such a time as I know, you will stay here.”

"He's not 'my human'. He has a name."

Johan seemed entirely nonplussed, said nothing to acknowledge the angel's words. He glanced back toward Becker, prompting Tenma to follow his gaze.

“Perhaps there’s something you can do here, while we wait. He might be able to aid your human, increase his chances. Though I wouldn’t count on it.”

* * *

To be killed right then, in that moment...or assassinate the crown.

There was only one answer, really.

It was often Heckel who weaved in and out of Heine, along with those boys...who crept in and out unnoticed, but never this far. Never like this. They pilfered from the utopian world and seeded information, collected it in return. But an attack like this, and only one man, wounded…

No, the wounds wouldn’t stop him. That blood was spilled because of this man, and it ran hotter with an unbridled anger for all that he’d done. To those deemed “unfit”, those called undesirable, children who had done nothing wrong; to him, and others like him, for being born differently; and of course to Tenma, who endured only heaven knew how much suffering at the whims of that man’s selfish lust for power. 

Lord Heinemann was a man too long lived in this world. And now...if Grimmer wanted to leave, if he wanted to escape this place alive, that man had to die.

Johan - for his threats and all that he’d done until now - had given as much information as he could. In the end, this was no test of Grimmer’s strength, to see if he would survive; it was a genuine desire for a killing, one that he wanted to succeed. He armed his pawn with as much as he could to enter, to perform his role as the fallen angel’s wrath. Once again he had offered Grimmer that red elixir...that healing potion derived from an angel’s blood.

Even knowing that it put him at a disadvantage, Grimmer had refused. He wouldn’t use something like that, knowing that Tenma had been used against his will to produce such a thing.

It felt comforting to have his bow and his blade again. Truthfully he’d expected they were destroyed, but he supposed that the lord had held onto them as a….well, for such an enemy of the crown, he would probably be made an example. His bow no doubt would be kept as a trophy for the tyrant to brag about. That was the sort of man…

Ah, he’d reached his destination. A garden, of all places...

It was a lovely thing - spilling out from the east tower’s first platform, it was a sort of sanctuary amidst stone structures. The garden circled all the way around the tower’s rectangular platform, some twenty feet below the top of the tower, though high enough from the ground to serve as a perfect viewing deck. Even from here, Grimmer caught the distant sounds of struggle carried by the wind. The last Johan had said, Heckel had opted to protect Tenma rather than follow through on his arrangement; he could certainly draw conclusions as to just who was causing such a ruckus below. Perhaps it was why Johan had acted so rashly in his proposition to the prisoner. 

The east tower’s garden was, itself, a safe place for the lord; the structure of the walls made it difficult to target anyone from below, and the only way up was through a hidden path that Johan had been so kind as to reveal. Even then, to reach the garden didn’t make any attack on the lord easy. There were four windows above - perfect openings to place an archer, if needed. And if this was the lord’s private garden, then Grimmer expected to find exactly as many archers as could be fit on those upper floors.

Scaling the tower upward, Grimmer kept to the walls and moved cautiously. The pulling at his back was a bit annoying, but if he strained himself, it would definitely be painful. He couldn’t afford to bleed any more than he already had.

There were two archers at the window on the first floor, carefully on lookout for opponents in the garden, dutifully protecting their lord.

It was in poor sport, but their backs were turned. In the end, the lord’s men had held no qualms taking advantage of the very same when Grimmer had held their man captive.

He rushed the first, clamping a hand over the man’s mouth and striking quickly with his dagger, the archer going limp. It wasn’t a lethal wound, not for the archers, but but he certainly wouldn’t be on his feet in any timely manner.

The second took little more effort; with only one man to face and no one at his back, using his companion as a shield was a much more effective method than the last time. 

With both unconscious, Grimmer ascended to the next landing.

Archers were deadly at a distance - deadlier when not seen. But up close, they were often easier to combat, easier to take down. Though each was a trained soldier, they held specialty in ranged combat; Grimmer himself was one of their kind, but living in the wild wood so long forced him to become proficient both in close quarters as much as ranged.

While it would have been faster to rush the lord from the landing, Grimmer certainly knew - as a slinger of arrows himself - that he would not have gotten far, not in his state. He needed to exercise patience, to deliver the laziest of finishes to the archers, preserve his strength.

The lord wouldn’t go down without a fight of his own, after all.

Johan’s push hadn’t taken much work. This was as much a battle he wanted for himself. Grimmer had been exiled at a young age, had rescued those who were condemned even younger. A peaceful resolution could only work if both parties were willing to listen; allowing a tyrant like the present lord to continue his reign would cost innocent lives, more than it already had. The lord by now long overstayed his welcome. 

There had been less trouble facing the archers than Grimmer had first anticipated, but it did little to ease him nor boost his confidence; it had been little effort, certainly, but the strain on his wounds was more real, more felt. There was something damp that clung to his skin there and he knew the wound was bleeding again.

Grimmer’s descent to the garden was slow, slower than he had been on the way up. He moved only as little as necessary, as little as possible. He allowed himself short breaks in the stairwell - to rest, and to listen. If there was anyone else coming from below, he needed to know sooner, so he could prepare. As he was, a surprise attack would take too much out of him. 

Coming back down to the landing, he refocused all senses ahead. Somewhere, beyond the hedgerows, was his final opponent.

The garden itself was open, with tall hedge bushes that segregated its quarters. It really was a beautiful place; the flora housed within deserved better than to bear witness to any sort of violence, but the fault lay with the lord himself, who chose this sanctuary to observe the battles below.

Grimmer kept quiet, listening for movement as he crept along as quietly as he could. It came as a bit of a surprise that there weren’t sentries in the lord’s immediate vicinity; he would have expected at least two within the garden itself, but of yet had found none.

It was in the third quarter that Grimmer came to spy the man himself - the crowned lord of Heine, surprisingly at ease as he stood over the balcony, overlooking the chaos within the walls. 

“That’s twice now I’ve had you locked away, and twice you’ve escaped. I’d thought we put our rat away, but it seems there’s more. I suppose when I finish with you, I’ll have vermin to purge from within these sanctus walls.” 

Without even turning, he’d known. Exactly how that might be Grimmer couldn’t be sure; he supposed it was possible that the fallen angel could be playing both sides - a warning to the lord, in the event that Grimmer should fail and the lord come to know that someone within his numbers had released the master of the glade. But then, if that was the case, the lack of additional defenses…

“I’d like to thank you for keeping him in good health for me. Too frail and I worry he might not survive the procedure to come.”

Grimmer felt his chest tighten, his eye twitching slightly as he drew in a slow breath. That was to...goad him. The lord was attempting to cloud his mind with anger...or simply being a horrible person for his own amusement. Grimmer’s fingers tightened around his dagger.

“I think you might very well be the most repulsive creature I’ve ever had to look upon. You sicken me, sir.” 

He still didn’t turn, his hands resting calmly against the stone ledge overlooking the view. It seemed odd, that he hadn’t yet drawn his sword, had made no effort to turn on Grimmer. Something was there, between himself and the lord. Something he hadn’t yet seen. 

“The sentiment is mutual. But, I suppose that’s enough talk now. There’s quite an agenda for today. I’ve your head to remove and a bird to catch.” 

It was then, at that moment, that Grimmer caught the faintest sound of something behind him - a rustle, from beyond the hedges. He turned, catching sight of something small and glinting as it whizzed by. That missing defense was probably...standing by, waiting on the other side of the dividing hedges to strike on the lord’s command. The little glint had been small - not an arrow, probably a dart of some kind. 

Dodging, unfortunately, meant putting his back toward Lord Heinemann.

Were he as quick and nimble as he was when operating at peak performance, Grimmer would have had little issue dodging the surprise projectile and whipping back around with a parry to his foe. Slowed that he was, the transition back to face Lord Heinemann was sluggish; he stepped backward to give himself a bit of space, bringing the blade up to catch his opponent’s sword. With his staggered stance, he was at least able to brace with his back leg and keep himself from being pushed back, but the shooting feeling that spread from his wound certainly spoke ill of his condition. He sidestepped quickly, moving away from the hedges; if he backed himself that way, he had to parry on both directions.

“Even injured, you’re a terrible nuisance. I should’ve had my men execute you in the forest.”

The lord was quick to attack, swiping with his blade before Grimmer could make a strike of his own. He was left on the defensive, matching footwork with the man, parrying blow for blow. Lord Heinemann certainly knew what he was doing; he kept Grimmer at a distance, where the sword held a greater advantage. His every step was in effort to drive Grimmer into a corner, to block him in where he couldn’t defend himself. He used wide strikes and quick forward thrusts to force Grimmer to move quickly; they were by no means direct attacks to wound the master of the glade, intended rather to weaken and tire him.

“You’re slowing down. Don’t have the fight in you?”

It felt odd, hearing jeers like that from someone so repulsive; there was no charm to it, not quite in the way he could enjoy banter among the bandits or sparring with Heckel. From Lord Heinemann it tasted like poison, and felt bizzarely childish, poor behaviour for a Lord to display.

“You really are a foolish man. I offer you a fortune for him, and you refuse? You could be living comfortably now, and not on the verge of death.”

Grimmer took another sidelong step, spinning in time to deflect another dart from behind, around to the front once more as he only barely managed a block, his knees starting to tremble.

“I would rather be a foolish and poor man in exile than live my luxury on the flesh and blood of a friend.”

He spoke with as much confidence as he could, a power in his voice that he could not reflect in his movements. He was, indeed, slowing; swift turns became cumbersome, but he knew better than to turn a blind eye to the hidden soldier beyond the underbrush; poison would only slow him further, render him truly helpless against the vile lord. Grimmer did his best to direct himself away from the hedgerows, but Lord Heinemann had the upper hand; he was being driven into that corner again, and there wasn’t much he could do to stop it, not unless he started to go on the offensive himself.

He blocked another strike - a wide slash on his left, one that came just a bit too close for Grimmer’s comfort. He managed a backward step as he drew his dagger up and to the side, forcing the sword out of any dangerous reach.

As soon as he’d done it, though, he felt a sick twist of regret.

He’d blocked incorrectly; rather than a turn that left him in a defensible position, he’d left himself completely exposed for a second attack, one made not with a sword, but the sharp delivery of a knee to his gut. Grimmer stumbled, keeping his balance as he tried to step back and away, but it meant sacrificing his defenses completely; Lord Heinemann took full advantage, pushing forward and throwing a kick that dropped Grimmer backward, hitting the ground hard.

Where he would ordinarily spring up with little effort, the backward fall had agitated the tender wound on his back, catching him off guard as he let out a choked noise. The sun overhead was blinding, but even dazed he could see the glint, the move of a shadow above him. If he didn’t do _something_ , this would be the moment that he died.

He _couldn’t_. Not here, not yet. And not by him.

Grimmer twisted his body into an excruciating roll, evading the downward thrust of a sword that would have sunk deep into his chest. On his side, he was at an even greater disadvantage, but he also wasn’t dead. Bracing against the ground with one arm, he brought his dagger upward in a blindly wild swing; Lord Heinemann had exposed a weakness of his own with that attempt to pierce his heart. Steel bit flesh, and the satisfying grunt of pain told him that he had found a mark.

Grimmer scrambled to act while he still had even a chance. Startled by the hit, Lord Heinemann would either step back or attempt to disarm him. Both required that he withdraw his sword from the ground to make his next move, awarding Grimmer precious seconds to respond.

Using the arm that supported him as his balance, he completed the roll, first steadying himself into a low crawl, then forcing himself into a crouch. He didn’t retreat from his opponent, though; even as blood dripped from angry wounds, he forced himself to stay close, making an upward slash with his blade. Even delirious, he had better chances of landing a hit up close. 

Lord Heinemann was now the one defending, blocking the more barbaric, uncontrolled attacks from his opponent. Grimmer was relentless, using quickness and strength in a swift burst of energy, though his target wasn’t the lord himself; it was the weapon, his sword, that took the brunt of the force, straining its wielder under the onslaught. 

Grimmer was on his last legs, but the strategy had worked; the sword clattered to the ground, his opponent now unarmed. He had one chance. Only one. 

With as much force as he could put behind his movement, Grimmer closed the distance between himself and Lord Heinemann, taking the blade to the man’s throat as his free hand gripped the man and held him in place.

Grimmer...fought to defend the Glade. To defend his people, and Tenma. He was a bowman himself; often his kind picked off enemies from afar. He’d taken life before. It was a part of battle; he put his own head on the line when he wielded those weapons, as he did now.

It had never been personal, not like this. For someone so wicked…

To kill him felt a waste. A cheat to his crimes. 

This was a wretch who would execute a man for no crime other than his love of a fellow man; who would have children jailed and punished for fighting to survive; whose hunger for absolute power had driven him to steal the freedoms of not one, but two, angels. 

But it wasn’t his will. He acted now on the will of the first of those angels, a man who had endured more than Grimmer could ever imagine. No earthly prisons could contain such a sick evil. There was no atonement, no repayment for all wrongs that man had committed. For someone like that...

“Let the Devil take you, then.”

It was quick. Quicker than he would have thought. A simple deed, in the end. He died no differently than any other human.

Grimmer was aware of the sharp sting of something in his shoulder, though his body was already numbing, his mind sluggish. He stumbled himself back toward the entrance, back the way he’d come. There was another sting, then a sound somewhere far away - like a scuffle, something metallic and then a thud.

The thud was close. And as he blinked he realized that it had been himself, that he was lying down now, bleeding onto the stone surrounded by such lovely flora, almost akin to home.

Something moved, shadows, sounds. But by then, he was too far gone to hear.

* * *

Every sound startled Tenma. Everything that could conceivably be the footfalls of a human, a voice, anything; even noises he imagined in his mind.

Sending Grimmer was a suicide mission. Even armed with inside knowledge, given his weapons, he was still facing a dangerous man; he wasn’t the sort of leader who feared the battlefield, this was a warmonger who enjoyed it. 

But then, there was no reason for the fallen angel to care. He had said it himself, Tenma and Grimmer were both tools to achieve his freedom, and little more than that.

“You’re strange, for an angel. Worrying about him.”

As much as Johan was at fault for the present situation, his sporadic dialogue at least distracted Tenma from the anxious tremor that bothered the back of his mind. He turned golden hues on the blonde, breathing slowly.

“I don’t think it’s strange. After all he’s done for me...of course I worry.”

Distant blue eyes seemed so far away, the fallen angel letting out an amused huff.

“I’ll admit, he surprised me. Even a good man can be bought, if you sell him peace on earth. But your human is an oddity. He was quite adamant you don’t belong to him. You’re lucky. Most wouldn’t be so generous. It would be a shame for you if he failed, now.”

Johan knew that he was picking at an exposed wound. Tenma clenched his hand into a fist, his wings twitching lightly under Grimmer’s cowl. He saw a slight shift in the fabric of Johan’s robe, imagined his own wings had reflexively twitched. He offered a thin little smile, seemingly sympathetic.

“If you’d like, I’ll come back to end your life once your wings have been taken. No need to endure this world as a flightless bird.”

 _”Don’t_ call me a bird.”

To hear it from Johan - who was, himself, an angel - was disturbing. More so than it was from them. That sort of language...it was used to reduce them, to instil a lesser mentality in the angels and maintain their inferiority. If Tenma had endured that sort of dialogue for months...he could only imagine how long the same was said of Johan. How ingrained it had become.

The sound of movement once more startled Tenma, a tremor shuddering through his whole body in an almost violent flinch. Eyes widened as he turned from Johan, as those sounds drew nearer.

And nearer.

It was uneven, like a rush and a stumble, but this time there was no mistaking it; someone was coming, and coming for them. Johan had his eyes on Tenma, his hand on something inside his robes. There was a threat in that - should Tenma try to flee, turn his back to Johan, he would be taken down.

The cold feeling that settled in his gut only chilled deeper, when two figures hobbled into the hall. 

Dimly, he could at least gauge their height; one - the one who seemed to be standing - was shorter, stout. The second, who wasn’t standing as much as he was leaning against the other in an awkward stumble, was unmistakably Grimmer. Even before they’d reached the lamplight, Tenma knew.

“He’s been poisoned and he’s losing a lot of blood. At this rate, he’s not going to last.”

Tenma moved despite the eyes that burned into his back from Johan, meeting Becker halfway as he tried to support the taller man between the both of them. He could feel and smell the sticky, coppery tang of blood, saw where Becker had haphazardly tried to dress the wounds. Grimmer was pale, pale and cold. Tired blue eyes blinked up, vaguely seeming to be aware of where he was as Tenma turned the man’s face toward him.

There was the faintest twitch of something like a smile.

“Gone. He’s….”

Those two words alone were rasped and painful, cut off by a grunt of pain. Tenma felt his heart thudding, heard it in his ears. He wasted no time, unclasping the cowl that hid his wings, allowing it to pool on the cobbled stone floor as he placed a hand on Grimmer’s face more firmly, closing his eyes. He could feel the swells of energy, what little he could scrounge up after healing Becker. It would be enough...he _could_ save Grimmer if-

The sound of something clinking to the ground drew the angel’s focus, his wings halfway flaring as his eyes opened again.

Johan had dropped something - a small glass vial, that he’d rolled toward Tenma, standing once more and turning away.

“Not that it’s my business, but I would suggest to conserve your strength. Let him have this. He wouldn’t drink it, when I offered it to him before. He might have fared better, if he had.”

Tenma blinked slowly, looking down at the vial. Inside it was a reddish fluid, clearly some sort of water-based elixir.

“But why wouldn’t he…”

There was an edge of suspicion to Tenma’s voice, rightfully concerned that perhaps what was inside was poisonous. Johan only chuckled, readjusting the cloak about his shoulders.

“You recognize it, don’t you?”

Tenma’s unease only grew as he looked at the thing. He _didn’t_ recognize it. He didn’t know what he was looking at, other than a red…

Red…

“Even I didn’t know what properties your blood might have. You're quite a useful resource.”

Tenma’s fingers closed around the vial, his mouth suddenly dry.

If Grimmer knew what it was...then he…

“He wouldn’t use something that was taken from you. Not even to save his own life.”

Tenma’s chest constricted tighter in on itself. Even in his condition…

“It’s your choice. I don’t need it. Do what you like; heal him on your own terms, or wait around. There’s a good chance this place will be crawling with unwanted visitors soon. I plan to leave before then. I have a life to live.”

There was nothing else said then, by Johan. He turned, and left; Tenma was crouched there now alone, with Becker at his side and Grimmer…

Grimmer…

To save his life...

"I don't mind. Not for you."

He tilted the man’s head, uncorking the vial.

* * *

Waking up…

It was uncomfortable. Painful...definitely painful. Tense...scratchy...but the miracle was that he woke up at all.

The last Grimmer had recalled, he was poisoned...he’d killed that man, but had been hit twice with poison darts. And then someone had come for him.

He’d thought that person probably...was probably going to finish him off.

Instead, he found himself alive...awake...in an uncomfortable place that smelled strongly, unpleasantly, of fish.

He tried opening his eyes, and found his vision blurred, eyes adjusting to filtering light. He took a slow, deep breath in, filling his lungs with the rank air as he tried to get his bearings. With a smell like-

Oh.

Grimmer paused mid-thought. Breathed in and out once more, curious. 

Indeed, as his lungs expanded, there was no tense pulling of taut skin, no cutting of fresh or old wounds. No sharp stabbing pain in his low back at all, really.

Rolling his shoulders cautiously, then rotating his wrists, he found the same - no tension or pain in the joints, in the muscles. He felt...fine, as though nothing had…

Grimmer jolted upright, then immediately regretted it as a dizzy rush clouded his head, making him double forward as he tried to steady himself. It did nothing to ease the racing of his heart, because if he was fine then that meant...

“Not so abrupt. Slowly, or you’ll get yourself hurt again.”

The sharp, feminine voice that reached Grimmer’s ears was a familiar relief. He certainly had no idea where he was, and waking in an unfamiliar place with no knowledge of what had happened after that fight was certainly unnerving. But if _she_ was here...then at least he felt a bit more at ease. Grimmer turned tired eyes toward Schumann’s apprentice, who seemed no less exhausted than himself, bedraggled and messy with dark shadows below her eyes. Grimmer opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

“The fishing village. We’re being sheltered here for now, until the both of you are well enough to travel.”

She had anticipated his question. Grimmer sat forward, nodding slowly. Then Heckel had probably...come here for help. That commotion, when he was fighting Lord Heinemann…so they had come for him. And brought…

The _both_ of you.

“Tenma...is he…he’s here?”

She seemed perplexed for a moment. It occurred to Grimmer that, most likely, she didn’t know the angel’s name. The moment passed, though; she was clever enough, and could deduce for herself that an unfamiliar name could only apply to one person. She nodded slowly.

“If you think you can stand, I can take you to see him.”

* * *

It had been quite some time since Grimmer was in the fishing village in earnest. They had certainly grown since, and seemed to have a stable way of living. Grimmer was brought from one shelter to a second, passing Heckel on the way. There was a brief pause, the man reluctant to look up to Grimmer, bizarrely dwarfed by the giant. He’d never seemed as small as he did now.

“I ain’t gonna fake bein’ innocent here. I stabbed ya in the back in a real bad way. I know there’s consequences for doin’ somethin’ shitty n I won’t try ta hide. Whatever it is ya decide, I’ll accept.”

Grimmer took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Heckel...was definitely right. He had done something that put each of them at risk. But that he had turned around...had fought to fix his own mess...that was something not to be overlooked. He clapped a hand on Heckel’s shoulder, a familiar shove rooted in play.

“We’ll...talk about it. Later.”

Without another word, he headed past the smaller man, into the shelter after the young doctor.

Tenma was there, lying as comfortably as could be managed. He was warmly blanketed, lying on his back on an elevated mattress. Grimmer walked over, looking down on the resting man. He knew that beneath those covers he would find no injuries, though it was the angel’s mind and tender heart that worried him so.

He’d been briefed, along the way. Had been told how Tenma had gone after him, all on his own. Something like that...after having thought himself captured, to have gone willingly back into Heine so that he could rescue Grimmer…

The angel’s breath hitched and he let out a small, soft whine. There was a slight twitch from beneath the sheets, and Grimmer felt a painful little twist in his chest. He glanced back to the doctor, who seemed to understand even without words and excused herself. There was another soft whine, and Grimmer reached out, gently brushing fingers through the angel’s hair.

“I sort of broke my promise, didn’t I? When you asked me to be careful...I made you worry a lot. And you went to that place...that was probably scary.”

He kept with just that small motion, speaking to Tenma as he combed through his hair. It seemed to soothe him, at first, but then the angel went completely still and silent, rigidly so. It felt, for a moment, as though Tenma was shrinking into himself, almost like he had the very first time they met.

Grimmer moved his hand away from the angel, giving him a little space.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?”

There was another brief tension in the angel. Grimmer closed his eyes, backing up just a little more and sitting down on the ground.

“It’s okay. It’s all right. You’re in a safe place right now. Just try to breathe slowly. I’m right here with you.”

Tenma...paused again, eyes opening wide. He did the very same foolish thing that Grimmer had, catapulting upright and then halfway falling back down. Grimmer was there to gingerly catch the angel in his sideways tilt, causing tension in his charge as he looked around, taking shaky breaths. He blinked a few times, his eyes settling on Grimmer finally. The master of the glade offered a cheeky little smile that lasted only a few moments, fading as Tenma’s eyes started watering.

“You’re…” he started, his voice so soft and filled with incredulity, “...alive.”

The very first thing Tenma said...the very first thing…

That his concern was for Grimmer, before himself…

“I am. I’m all right, because of you.”

He really was surprised...he’d expected that was the end. After that fight…it still felt so fresh in his mind. Ugly words that he heard so clearly.

_“I’d like to thank you for keeping him in good health for me. Too frail and I worry he might not survive the procedure to come.”_

That wouldn’t happen now. He was safe now.

Grimmer looked over the angel, reaching out and letting his hands rest against his arms. There was a slight tremble in his touch as he took in Tenma’s form. He traced lines along the angel’s skin with his fingertips, a quiet question that Tenma had no obligation to answer. Those beautiful gold eyes had turned downcast, away from Grimmer, looking at the hand that traveled slowly along his arm. Grimmer...could tell he was trying to hold something in. The unfocused stare...his mind was turned inward, concentrating on keeping his composure. 

Grimmer...had no way of knowing what had happened to him. It had really seemed that Heckel had betrayed them. To have endured all he had, to put his trust in Grimmer’s company only to be led into a trap...to brave the place that had held him captive for so long in his reckless rescue...

The master of the Glade let his arms shift, slowly embracing the angel. He felt as Tenma’s wings twitched, his breath catching quietly as fingers brushed against soft feathers. Grimmer’s hands retreated, a hollow feeling starting to dig itself into his stomach. That flinch, like before…

“Don’t. It’s…”

Tenma’s voice came softly, but even so he heard the faint crackle in his pitch. He was fighting so hard just to stay calm. The angel moved closer, bowing forward so that his face pressed against Grimmer’s chest.

“It’s fine if...it’s you.”

There was something quietly urgent about the angel’s words. The way that Tenma was speaking...his tone, the look he had...it was more than just permission, but a request. He _wanted_ Grimmer to hold him. Wanted to feel something that he deemed familiar and safe. 

That painful, dreadful guilt burned a deeper hole in his stomach.

Once more Grimmer embraced the angel, using slow tracing motions along his feathered wings. So soft to the touch, they were a part of Tenma’s being that should never be stolen from him. An angel’s feathers might grant fortune...his wings might grant power beyond human measure...but whether it was shared, whether it was ever to be touched by man was something the angel should have the right to choose.

He could feel Tenma shudder against him, the sound somehow both painful and relieved. Painful, he supposed, because he could feel the angel shaking just a little, fighting to contain the swells of emotion that threatened to burst at the seams. Feelings he had to hold in, that he buried for the sake of saving his friend, that now, all at once, wanted to be known.

Grimmer made a small, choked sound as he held the angel nearer, his own hands trembling just slightly.

“I’m...sorry.”

He was fully aware of how hollow his voice sounded, and how silly it was to apologize. The words just tumbled from his lips, but it didn’t feel like enough. Not _nearly_ enough. No matter how honest, no matter how heartfelt, they were only words. They could do nothing to heal wounded spirits or erase painful memories or soothe the pains that either felt.

Comfort came instead from their closeness, from the familiarity of it. Running his hands over Tenma’s wings brought a calm to them both, as healing for Grimmer as for the angel. He drew in a slow breath, allowing his embrace to talk for him, to communicate as many things as he could when all his lips could think to say was ‘I’m sorry’. 

Tenma tilted his head, breathing in against Grimmer, breathing slowly. Hands balled into fists that bunched in Grimmer’s tunic, as though Tenma was trying to disappear into the taller man’s chest for just a moment. And if that was what he wanted...if that was where he felt safe...Grimmer certainly wouldn’t refuse him. Instead, he allowed one hand to retreat from gently plying the angel’s feathers, resting at the back of his head instead.

“I didn’t do a very good job of sheltering you. You wound up having to come save me.”

The grip around him tightened just a little, and Grimmer could feel the angel take a deep breath against him, slowly untangling himself from the human’s arms so that he could sit upright again, seemingly more comfortable now.

“It’s not your job to look after me. You did that because you could. You were the first…”

Tenma broke off, taking another deep breath, tensing briefly. 

“It’s not just that you helped me. You let me do what I wanted, even if I’d chosen to leave. You didn’t treat me strangely. And you believed in me. That I could heal.”

Tenma’s wings fluffed and he set his jaw. There was that ghost of something uncomfortable, a flash of ugly memories. Grimmer put an arm around him once more, continuing those gentle brushes along the angel’s feathers. If invisible hands of poltergeists brought back painful feelings, then he would be Tenma’s anchor, someone in the present, a reminder it was safe.

“No one should ever be treated as anything less than a person. Or anything more, for that matter.”

There was another sharp inhale from Tenma, though he seemed less strained now, taking comfort in someone familiar and safe. Grimmer looked down, his face falling.

“He’s gone now. Because of what I…”

“I know.”

Tenma was quick to interject, before Grimmer could even finish. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; the angel had probably been briefed, probably knew. His own gaze was set forward, towards the far wall.

“You did what you needed to. There’s not much else that needs to be said. Except...”

Tenma closed his eyes, leaning against Grimmer’s shoulder. Even with his eyes closed...that kind of trust…

“Thank you.”

Grimmer smiled, catching just the littlest sensation of stinging in his eyes, a tightness in his chest that felt more warm than sorrowful. He drew delicate lines along Tenma’s cheek, letting his hand fall just to grip the smaller hand of his companion as he turned his head toward the angel, his own eyes closing comfortably.

“There's no need for that. Try just to rest, for now. Get some rest.”

There was a certain distinctiveness to his tone, Tenma’s lashes fluttering slightly, brow quirking for a moment as he read it, then smiled a tired smile. They _both_ knew, of course. It didn’t have to be said, not in any particular words, but they knew what it meant.

…

“When can we go see him? He’s okay right? They’re both...they’re not…”

“You saw them both yourself, didn’t you? They’re going to be okay. They just need rest.”

Corralling the children away from the shelters and into a state of calm was difficult enough on a good day, made harder by the present situation. Those boys wanted to see Grimmer…and understandably so, all things considered. Heckel and Becker had done their best to keep the boys from coming close while the doctor tended to them, but now that they were “just resting” they were agitated, difficult to contain. The young doctor did her best to soothe them with updates now and then but that only placated them a few hours at best.

“But Grimmer was up. That’s what Antonin said, he saw him walking with you right? So why can’t we just go see him? Is he sick with something bad?”

“Oh he’s sick with somethin’ alright. Better hope you boys never get it. Makes ya act real stupid.”

“Sick with what?”

Heckel smirked, waggling his eyebrows smugly. 

“That’s a secr-- _ow!_ ”

He cut himself off, narrowing his eyes at the doc as she returned his look with a _don’t start_ face. He shut himself up and shrugged.

“Just do like the doc says. He’ll be up ‘n around soon, yeah? Then you can all pile on him at once.”

Or...that was the hope anyway.

It wasn’t hard joking right now, being goofy with the kids. But it was gonna be hard, for a while. Soon as those two were able to move around they were moving out, to...well...somewhere. A place they’d all be safe. Heine was gonna go through a rough time for a while, figuring itself out with political games and money and whatever else. Didn’t mean they were in the clear, though.

They’d find somewhere. Find a place to live. Make their own way.

* * *

There were still dreams. That was something Tenma didn’t think would go away, not for a long time. But he didn’t have to face them alone.

Grimmer never asked, he just did what he could to ease and comfort the angel. He trusted Grimmer, but even so, talking about…everything, _all_ of it, was a challenge. He’d had his closure; he knew that it was just a dream, that he wasn’t going to wake someplace horrible. And right now that was enough.

He couldn’t fly for long. There was still a lingering heaviness to his wings that exhausted them quickly, but that probably came more from a lack of use than any lingering trauma. He _looked_ better. He _felt_ better. It had taken him a long time to get there but he was recovering.

Those boys were recovering, too.

He’d worried most for Dieter, but it seemed that all he needed was...to see, to feel, that Grimmer was okay. There was a certain warmth about Grimmer’s hugs that seemed impossible to imitate, some unique talent he had. 

The warmth of the sun and gentle caress of the breeze took the angel back to the present. He glanced skyward, reaching up with one hand and, true to form, found himself abruptly in the company of a particular fat robin, whose nest wasn’t far from here.

“I wondered if you’d come. Am I so interesting to you?”

The bird tilted its head, ignoring him for the moment and simply getting comfortable there in his palm. Tenma chuckled.

“Or perhaps you simply like to sit on me. That’s all right, I don’t mind.”

He was ignored once again, though the bird seemed quite happy where it was for now. Tenma closed his eyes, letting wisps of the breeze tangle and play with his hair, kissing his face in its own cool greeting. The air smelled fresh, as fresh as any spring day should. Though, the breeze brought with it the soft sound of footsteps in the grass, familiar even though Tenma faced the other way.

“Oh! There you are. I’d wondered where you wandered to.”

The voice was cheerful and warm as it greeted him. 

Tenma turned into the sun to face the man, and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that....
> 
> I tried to wrap all the loose ends up/give closure as much as possible. I had really wanted to do a last scene with Dieter and Grimmer to actually _show_ it but I felt it might drag if there was too much #drama in one piece...
> 
> I'd like to thank anyone who stuck around this long, lmao. I know in the middle this fic sorta went way off the rails and trundled around a lot but I think it's back on its feet again for the finale. Thanks for bothering to read this big silly thing, it was fun to make <3


End file.
